The Other Daughter of Elrond
by vulcanmindmeld
Summary: Celedë, daughter of Elrond, has her own reasons for joining the Fellowship of the Ring, despite the price she knows she must pay in the end. At best, Celedë will ensure her sister Arwen's happiness with Aragorn. At worst, all will be lost and Middle Earth will fall to evil. Either way, Celedë has doomed herself and her love with a certain Elf Prince, which might only end in pain.
1. Prologue

_**A/N: Thanks for viewing this story! I'm planning on continuing it, and I promise my writing improves as the chapters go on. This is actually a second draft of the prologue, where I took into account some things people recommended to me in the reviews (I take each review seriously and really appreciate everyone who takes the time to write me a review!)**_

_**Note on special symbols/pronounciation: Celedë does indeed have two dots above the last "e" and I've added them in this draft but not the other chapters yet. There is still debate over whether the "_**dë**_" is pronounced "day" or "dee," but the "c" definitely makes the "k" sound. I personally pronounce her name "Keh-leh-dee" kinda rhyming with "melody" if that helps. Celebrían is pronounced "Keh-leh-BRI-an."**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own in any way any part of the fantastic world created by J.R.R. Tolkien/Peter Jackson. If any line or scene seems recognizable to you, attribute it to Tolkien/Jackson. This is simply for my enjoyment and it is posted under "fanfiction" after all. :-)**_

Hidden by a ring of trees, birds chirped to each other blissfully on the outskirts of a clearing that was tucked neatly into a valley in the Misty Mountains. Like most of the mountain range, this section of the mountains was consumed by nature and untouched by civilization. Suddenly though, the birds' songs turned to warning shrieks as a rider on horseback galloped into the clearing, following a worn path that snaked between the mountains. Two other riders quickly followed, flanking the first rider on either side. Their pure white horses created a startling contrast to the jet black horse the lead rider rode.

The riders themselves could only be described as beautiful, possessing a grace that no Man could replicate. All of them rode the horses with neither bridle nor saddle, yet they were able to balance perfectly on their steeds. As they raced into the clearing, the lead rider raised a hand, and with a gentle word, she brought her horse to a halt in the center of the clearing. The other riders quickly drew to a halt as well and dismounted as their leader did. Clearly a lady of some kind, the lead rider wore long, flowing riding clothes that allowed her to sit on the horse but still retain a lady's proper adornment. Her wavy golden hair was clasped away from her face by a simple clip of silver leaves, revealing two slender ears that ended in points. She was not just any lady, nor was she even human. This traveler was none other than the Lady Celebrían, her silver-leaved hair clip bearing tribute to her name and native land. The two riders accompanying her, with matching bronze armor and sheathed weapons, could only have been her guards.

Celebrían was traveling lightly as she rode her beloved horse, Anaron, from her home of Rivendell to the Elvish haven Lothlórien. It had been too long since she had last visited her parents, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, and Celebrían was eager to tell them the latest news. After two thousand years, Celebrían was once again expecting a child. Without even telling her beloved mate, Lord Elrond of Rivendell, of the soon-to-be new arrival, Celebrían had departed for the home of her parents, where she intended to stay for the birth of the new child and perhaps a few centuries afterward. Time moved so slowly for the immortal Elves that visits for hundreds of years were not uncommon.

However, Celebrían suspected Elrond would waste no time in traveling to Lothlórien after she sent him the news of her pregnancy. She felt guilty for not telling Elrond before she left, but she wanted to surprise her parents and make amends for neglecting to inform them of the birth of their granddaughter, Arwen. Arwen had been nearly a century old before the news reached Lothlórien for the first time. Celebrían felt a letter would not suffice either, no matter how soon after the birth it was delivered, which was why she now traveled in person to her parents' domain of Lothlórien.

As Celebrían had been riding Anaron through the Redhorn Pass all day, she now decided to stretch her legs and rest for a moment in the center of the clearing they had come to. She was about to sit down in the grass when one of her guards spoke up.

"My lady, I wouldn't recommend resting in such an exposed area. May I suggest the edge of the clearing, perhaps by that fallen log? You will be better sheltered if some trouble were to happen."

Celebrían smiled.

"Certainly, Meldir. I shall do as you suggest, although this journey has been rather uneventful so far."

"Lord Elrond entrusted us with your safety, my lady," Meldir replied solemnly, "And we will uphold the trust of the Lord of Rivendell with our lives."

Celebrían nodded, unsurprised by the loyalty her mate invoked in his subjects. They followed his orders not because they had to, but because they wanted to. Lord Elrond's wise and gentle manner had not only made him beloved among his people, but had also stolen Celebrían's own heart many years ago. Celebrían sighed as she led Anaron to the edge of the clearing Meldir had pointed out. Only a few days had passed and she already missed her mate terribly. She prayed to the Vala he would understand the reason for her sudden flight to Lorien.

Anaron gratefully tucked his legs under him and lay down as Celebrían sat down beside him and leaned back against his powerful shoulder. She absentmindedly rested a hand on her belly, still quite flat, and hummed a lullaby to the child she carried. Her guards left her to scan the perimeter of the clearing, their own horses content to munch on grass nearby. As she hummed, Celebrían gazed up at the beautiful mountain beside her that was known as _Caradhras _to the Elves. The mountain's snow-capped summit gave credence to the fact that it wasone of the highest peaks in the Misty Mountains, the chain of mountains that the Redhorn Pass allowed one to navigate through instead of over. As Celebrían admired the beauty and peace of the Pass, she felt her eyes slowly close. Feeling safe and relaxed, she drifted off into a light sleep. Her body was exhausted from the journey though, especially in her condition, and Celebrían's wakeful sleep soon grew into a deep slumber.

By the time Celebrían jerked herself awake, evening had fallen. Celebrían mentally scolded herself for sleeping so long, then quickly looked about her surroundings. Why hadn't her guards woken her sooner?

The sun had just begun to sink below the mountains, casting the Pass in a reddish glow. A quick glance around the clearing revealed no one else, not even the other horses. Celebrían glanced nervously at her own horse, but Anaron was sound asleep, his head drooping towards the ground. Careful not to wake him, Celebrían slowly rose from the ground. Her body ached from sitting in one position for so long, but she didn't waste time stretching as she moved swiftly across the clearing, searching for her guards. There was a large rock hidden in the shadows of the trees some distance away that she could just make out from where she stood. Celebrían decided to head towards it, as it would provide a good hiding spot if there was danger. Creeping slowly towards the rock, Celebrían scanned the surrounding area. Strangely, there was still no sign of her guards. Turning back to the rock, Celebrían frowned. It was a very oddly shaped boulder. She walked towards it curiously, and when she was close enough, her eyes widened and she screamed in horror.

The rock was not a rock at all. It was a pile of bodies. Two familiar horses had been thrown one on top of the other, no longer white but stained dark red with blood. Celebrían could see each of their ribs shining starkly pale against their blood red flesh, much of which was missing, as if it had been ripped away by some foul beast.

Celebrían's guards lay dismembered nearby, their heads lolling and only half attached to their bodies. Celebrían desperately fought down the urge to throw up and staggered away, back to the clearing. What creature could have done this to them, and so silently that she had not even woken up? Her loyal guards, whom she'd known for a thousand years, were clearly beyond her help. Celebrían prayed to the Vala that her companions would find their way to peace in the Halls of Mandos.

Anaron, who must have been woken up by Celebrían's scream, whinnied warningly to her as she stepped into the clearing. Celebrían paused, but heard nothing. She began heading towards her horse when a sudden sharp noise emanated from the other side of the clearing, as if a twig had been broken underfoot. Celebrían froze. She had reached the center of the clearing and was now completely exposed. Anaron whickered warningly, his ears twitching toward the foreign sound. Celebrían silently moved into action, slipping into a defensive crouch. Constantly scanning for movement, she ran to her horse and unstrapped her bow from Anaron's saddle-pack. Without a sound, she pulled an arrow out of her quiver, nocked it, and drew her bow taut as she aimed cautiously around her, preparing to strike at any sign of movement.

The noise came again, a scuffle that she pinpointed as coming from behind a bend in the path a few hundred feet in front of her, where the clearing ended and the trees hid the source of the noise from view. Celebrían walked around Anaron protectively, ignoring his whinny of protest, and aimed at the farthest point of the path she could see. With a sudden flurry of movement and an evil snarl, the shadowy figure of an orc leaped into view from behind a large tree trunk. It quickly fired a black, barbed arrow at her. Celebrían swerved out of the way, barely avoiding being struck, as she fired her own arrow. Her aim was true, and the orc fell with a shriek that echoed around the isolated pass. Darting back to Anaron, Celebrían desperately yanked her quiver free from her pack and swung it across her back, nocking another arrow in the process.

She had barely taken more than a few seconds to arm herself again, but when Celebrían glanced back towards the bend, her heart sank. At least a dozen orcs had already begun to charge her and Anaron. Still reeling from the shock that her guards had been taken down so quickly and quietly by some unknown foe, Celebrían turned and fled on instinct. Moving towards the far edge of the clearing, she relied on her keen Elvish senses as she dodged arrow after arrow and fired back with the speed and accuracy that only an Elf could have.

It didn't take long for Celebrían to realize, however, that no matter how skilled she was, she was fighting a losing battle. More orcs, all armed with bows and arrows, streamed through the trees from the other direction, forcing Celebrían to retreat back towards the center of the clearing. While Celebrían could avoid a few arrows, her heart sank as she realized she had no hope of escaping unscathed from this many orcs. Worse still, Anaron was a much larger and slower target for the orcs. While Celebrían was nimble and could dodge many of the arrows aimed at her, she could only watch in horror as arrow after arrow plunged into her horse's flesh. From her beloved horse's shrieks of agony, Celebrían suspected the arrows were laced with poison as well.

By now, the orcs had forced Celebrían all the way back to the center of the clearing and were swarming her in all directions. Celebrían noticed a hole in their circle and ran for it, trying desperately to escape into the forest. She had managed to get through and reach the tree line when she heard Anaron scream shrilly behind her. Another arrow had pierced his flesh. Celebrían winced. She could not leave her beloved horse to die here, alone. She would make a last stand at the edge of the clearing, facing the oncoming orcs, to save him. Celebrían called to Anaron, and her horse tossed his head in understanding. Then he tore through the ranks of orcs to stand between them and Celebrían.

Celebrían began firing arrows as quickly as she could, refusing to take time to hide. In an attempt to protect her, Anaron began to step back and forth in front of her, taking many of the arrows aimed for Celebrían. Celebrían's gut twisted at Anaron's cries as the arrows tore through his body, but the horse kept stepping bravely in front of her to take the arrows. His breathing grew heavier and more labored with each pass, but he continued to step in front of her.

After his sixth pass, however, Anaron began to tremble from the effects of the poison lacing the multitude of arrows that now stuck out of his sides like porcupine quills. He suddenly stumbled as his legs gave out from under him, and then tumbled to the ground between Celebrían and the orcs, releasing an anguished groan as his weight pushed arrows deeper into him. Ignoring the oncoming orcs, Celebrían shrieked with anguish and rushed to his side, aware that there was nothing she could do to save her horse. She made eye contact with Anaron, one hand gently stroking his head, and they exchanged one last glance both desperate and sorrowful but full of love. Then Anaron exhaled, a light vanishing behind his eyes as he laid his head down on the ground to rest forever.

"Goheno nin," whispered Celebrían in Elvish. _Forgive me. I couldn't save you. _Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She furiously blinked them away and turned towards the oncoming orcs in rage.

Blinded by her tears and anger, Celebrían unsheathed her two long daggers from Anaron's saddle pack and met the orcs head on. With a tremulous cry, Celebrían tore at the group of orcs with renewed vigor. Parrying a dagger from an orc with one sword, Celebrían used her other dagger to stab the orc in the gut. Dark, hot blood splattered onto her face and hands as she pulled her weapon out. She flinched back, only to be forced to stab again into another orc on her other side to prevent him from killing her. Celebrían was able to take down several of them in this manner before the simple-minded, corrupt creatures regrouped and charged again.

After multiple dodges and offensive attacks, Celebrían beheaded and stabbed several more orcs before she was finally overwhelmed by the sheer number of them. She desperately threw a dagger up to stop an orc's sword from slashing down at her, but exposed her wrist in doing so. Another orc swung his blade at her face. She dodged backward, but her dagger was still locked with the other orc's sword and the blade continued its swing, slicing into her wrist.

Celebrían dropped her dagger with a cry of pain and cradled her wrist at her side, watching in horror as her blood spurted out of the gash the orc had given her and mixed with the darker blood of the orcs she had slain. She watched fearfully as the blood dripped in a steady stream to the ground. Glancing up once more, Celebrían realized she had lost the fight as an orc towered above her, his sword raised. Then he slammed the pummel of his weapon into the back of her head. As she succumbed to darkness, Celebrían fleetingly thought of Elrond, her beloved, and of how foolish she had been to leave him for this ill-conceived journey.

When Celebrían regained consciousness in the middle of the night, she opened her eyes blearily before her body started gagging on a putrid, rotten rag that had been shoved into her mouth. Tears came to her eyes as she continued to gag uncontrollably. Struggling to calm herself, Celebrían breathed deeply through her nose over and over. Her involuntary gags slowly subsided, but then Celebrían became aware of a sharp, agonizing pain in her right wrist that caused her to moan aloud and sent her into another gagging fit. Her hands had been bound behind her back and the thick rope dug into the wound that the orcs had subdued her with. Breathing heavily, Celebrían tried to focus on her surroundings in an attempt to ignore the flaring pain in her wrist. She realized she was lying on her side, unable to move or escape her torment. Too weak to attempt an escape, Celebrían retreated into herself and focused simply on continuing to breathe through her nose, trying futilely to ignore the pain that threatened to overwhelm her.

It wasn't long before the orcs sensed that their captive had woken up. Two orcs wandered over to their prisoner. One had a missing eye and the other was wearing several rings in his large, batty ears.

"What've we caught this time, huh? A she-elf, all alone in the woods?" cackled the one-eyed orc in the language of Mordor. Celebrían, her mind already unfocused, could barely make out the meaning of his garbled words.

The orc with earrings snickered back, "Maybe we ought to teach her that wandering around alone in the Misty Mountains isn't such a good idea."

With a vicious snarl, the orc kicked Celebrían in the ribs, causing her to double over on the ground in pain. As she struggled to get her breath back, Celebrían fell into another gagging fit.

The one-eyed orc grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her into a sitting position. "What's the matter, she-elf? Forgot how to breathe? Here, let me help." The orc pounded Celebrían on the back and let go of her arm, causing her to pitch forward, her bound hands unable to stop herself from slamming headfirst back into the ground.

"That better?" the orc shrieked with mirth, "Come on, you can talk, can't you?"

He ripped the gag out of Celebrían's mouth, and tears sprang to her eyes from the sheer relief of being free of the disgusting rag.

"I said, can't you?" he snarled.

"Let me go," Celebrían whispered feebly in the Common Tongue.

"What? You've got to speak louder than that! Even a mouse couldn't have heard you," the orc with earrings jeered.

"Please," Celebrían forced her voice louder, "Let me go."

Both the orcs laughed at that. Switching to the Common Tongue, the orc with earrings snickered.

"Set you free? Why would we do that? You've fallen into our hands, and we'll do what we want with you. We are just going to have a bit of fun. When we get hungry, then you can beg us again, and we might be…persuaded…to bring your suffering to an end. Elves taste good, but she-elves…even better."

The one-eyed orc licked his lips at this pronouncement. The pair were soon joined by other members of their gang, who ambled over to partake in "having a bit of fun."

Their idea of fun was to make Celebrían cry out when they beat her, and that was why Celebrían's gag had been removed. Celebrían clenched her teeth together in silent rebellion and refused to make a sound as the orcs kicked her and beat her, tossing her back and forth in a circle they had formed around her. She didn't know what the orcs would do once they achieved their goal. For the moment though, they had not decided to kill her directly, and Celebrían wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. If she stayed alive long enough, she told herself, she would be saved. Her willpower depended on the belief that someone would save her, regardless of the reality that her chances of rescue were very, very slim.

In addition to staying silent, Celebrían also tried to prevent her belly, and therefore her unborn child, from being beaten as well. After an orc delivered a particularly nasty kick to her gut, Celebrían couldn't stop the flow of tears from coming, not from pain, but in anguish that her unborn child was in pain, or worse, would never live to see the world.

When another orc brought forth a whip, Celebrían's resolve almost failed. Added to the dull, aching pain of blunt blows, the whip brought sharp, stinging pain wherever it struck her. Soon she was bleeding profusely from multiple cuts scattered about her body, including the wound in her wrist. Although lightheaded and close to losing consciousness, Celebrían refused to yield to the orcs' demands. Eventually, the orcs decided to gather together to concoct a way to force her to scream, and with one final kick to the head that sent stars flashing across her eyes, they left Celebrían alone. With tears staining her cheeks, Celebrían silently sobbed words of forgiveness to her child before slipping back into oblivion. She was not awake to hear the orcs concoct their new plan.

"Let's stick her with a poisoned arrow," the one-eyed orc suggested. "Then she'll surely scream."

The other orcs shrieked eagerly at this idea, but the orc with earrings warned, "If she's poisoned, she won't be good to eat. I haven't had she-elf meat in a long time, and I plan to change that soon enough."

"But she's a tough one, she is," another orc argued, "Won't it be more fun to break her than end her suffering so quickly? And I don't see any other way to crush her except with poison. We still have a little of the stuff that the Mastergave us. I say we use it!"

The other orcs snarled in agreement, more eager to break Celebrían's willpower than end her suffering and eat her.

"No," snarled the orc with earrings, placing himself in front of Celebrían's unmoving figure, "I won't let you waste good food. Not 'til I've had my fill."

"Are you hungry, boys?" shrieked the one-eyed orc, "'Cause someone's just offered to be the next meal!"

Screeching in delight, the other orcs surrounded their former companion. The orc with earrings gulped and put his hands up in a futile attempt to save himself, but the other orcs leaped onto him and tore into his body. They ate him alive as he screamed to the silent, forbidding mountains.

ooOOoo

In a distant part of the Redhorn Pass, two Elves were intently studying horse tracks in the dirt. They must have been twins, for they were identical in every way, from their dark brown hair and blue eyes to their height, slender build, and matching green and brown hunting tunics.

Behind them lay the huge corpse of a massive bear they had recently taken down. The beast was easily four times as big as they were, and if the bear had been hungry, the two Elves surely wouldn't have been able to defeat it. Judging from its swollen belly though, the monster had recently eaten its fill by the time they came across it lumbering through the woods away from the mountains.

Distant screams soon fell upon their ears, coming from far away in the mountains. The twins stopped looking at the tracks and glanced uneasily at each other.

"That doesn't sound good," murmured one of the Elves.

"Hurry! She's in trouble," said the other Elf. They simultaneously leaped up, mounted their horses, and charged off down the Pass.

ooOOoo

Celebrían had just opened her eyes again, blinking in the early morning sunlight, as the disgustingly swollen, bald head of the one-eyed orc came into view.

"Don't wanna scream, huh she-elf?" the orc smirked, brandishing an arrow above Celebrían's heart. The point of the arrow glistened with a dark blue, nearly black liquid. Celebrían watched fearfully as a drop of the liquid formed at the tip of the arrow and fell to the ground. The grass beside her burned and sizzled at the touch of the strange substance, and Celebrían flinched away in terror.

"Wonder if you can stand the pain of poison? Me thinks you can't!" cried the one-eyed orc gleefully. As Celebrían frantically tried to wriggle away, she was stopped by other orcs, who shrieked in delight as they held her firmly in place. With a swift arc of his arm, the one-eyed orc plunged the arrow, dripping with blue-black poison, into the flesh below Celebrían's collarbone, just above her heart.

This pain was very different from the beatings and the whip. It was a twisting, writhing fire burning its way through Celebrían's body, turning all of her willpower to ashes. It made her entire body feel heavy and weak, and she could barely move because of the sudden unbearable pressure weighing down on her body. But it also sent searing waves of pain through her limbs, causing her to thrash uncontrollably, even as her limbs protested against every movement with more excruciating pressure and pain.

This pain was worse than any Celebrían had ever felt before. It was too much pain after too much horror, and Celebrían couldn't will herself to stay silent. She wouldn't have been able to even if she had been perfectly unharmed to begin with. Celebrían finally opened her mouth and released a bloodcurdling scream…then another…and another. They were cries of pure agony as she writhed helplessly on the ground, trying to escape the pain. But the pain never relented, and the orcs cackled happily at their success.

ooOOoo

The Elf twins urged their horses faster towards the sound of newer, more frantic and distinctly female screams.

ooOOoo

Celebrían's back had arched unnaturally backwards as her arms and legs trembled uncontrollably. Her vocal chords had been so used that she could only crackle out hoarse moans of agony. Her eyes were squeezed shut as if she could avoid the pain by not looking at the arrow that the orcs had neglected to remove. She could taste blood in her mouth from where she had bitten down on her cheeks and tongue, but the pain from the arrow blotted out any pain she had inflicted on herself.

Then Celebrían's body slammed back into the earth, her back too weak to arch upwards once more. Gradually, her trembling limbs slowed. Her breathing became labored as her moans quieted to small whimpers. With a final, choking sigh, Celebrían finally gave up. She slipped away from consciousness, and her body shuddered once before finally becoming still. The beautiful, beloved mate of Elrond lay immobile on the ground, her golden hair matted with dirt and blood, and her skin mottled underneath the surface with grey streaks of poison. The orcs surrounding her cheered gleefully at her demise, reveling in their success in breaking the she-elf's will.

The one-eyed orc had never felt better. His greatest rival had been eaten alive, and now he had been given control of the entire group of orcs. He would become their unchallenged leader, and the fact that the orcs had gotten the she-elf to scream through a plan of his own making made him all the more smug.

He had only just begun to bask in his success, however, when he heard a strange sound in the distance, not unlike the galloping of horses' hooves. The orc immediately dismissed this notion as nonsense, for no creature in its right mind would come through the Redhorn Pass at a full gallop. Just to be safe though, the one-eyed orc turned to his new brethren, sneered his best grimace, and shrieked, "Come on boys, time to move on!"

He walked towards the still body of the she-elf, dead at last, and ripped the arrow out of her body. She didn't even twitch. Raising the arrow above his head in triumph, the orc faced his new clan. The other orcs cowered away from him in fear, _as they should, _thought the one-eyed orc happily. Too late, he realized that they weren't looking at him though, but behind him.

"What-" he started to speak as he turned around…and was swiftly beheaded by an Elf on horseback.

The two Elves, identical to each other, proceeded to charge into the group of orcs, slashing, stomping and killing the vile creatures left and right. One of them jumped gracefully off his horse, one long dagger in each hand, and proceeded to destroy the orcs on the ground with vengeance. The other rode his horse around the clearing and made sure no orc escaped the slaughter. The carnage was completed as quickly as the Elves had appeared, and the echoes of the orcs' dying shrieks soon faded into distant memory.

The Elf on foot gazed around the clearing before he gave an anguished shout and ran to a figure lying in the grass a few yards away from the dead orcs. The other Elf swiftly dismounted and followed at a run.

"Naneth!" sobbed the first Elf as he tenderly cradled Celebrían's head and shoulders to his chest. _Mother. _

"No!" the other Elf cried, and ran to Celebrían. He fell to his knees in front of his brother, staring at his mother's broken body before gently picking up Celebrían's still hand and bringing it up to his tear-streaked cheek. "Naneth! No!"

The two Elves cried by Celebrían's body as their horses walked up to their own fallen comrade, Anaron, nuzzling his head and neck in sorrow.

Tears falling freely from both of the Elves' faces, the twin holding his mother's hand glanced down at it. She was still warm, as if they had arrived mere moments too late…A sudden thought occurred to him then, a possibility that he dared not hope for. Carefully, fearing the worst, the Elf gently probed his fingers down his mother's wrist in search of a pulse. Nothing at first…but then he felt a faint, quick movement of blood pulsing weakly in her veins over and over, and his own heart sped up in excitement.

"Elrohir," whispered the Elf frantically in Elvish, "she's alive!"

Elrohir, glancing at his brother with incredulous hope, quickly but gently took Celebrían's other hand. He gave a sharp intake of breath at the sight of blood still trickling out of a large wound on the underside of her wrist. "They cut her!"

Moving to her neck, Elrohir gently brushed aside Celebrían's golden hair, dark with dirt and blood, and pressed his fingers to the side of her throat. He let out an excited breath.

"You're right Elladan, she's still alive. We have to get her-"

"-to Father. He's the only one who can save her."

"He _will_ save her," Elrohir muttered under his breath.

"I'll take her; you go on ahead and warn Father," said Elladan.

"And leave you alone? Not likely. Not after what's just happened to Mother," Elrohir argued, "No, we go together. Besides, Father must know something's wrong. He's the one who sent us."

"Fine, but let me take her. I've always been the gentler one," Elladan replied.

Rolling his eyes but reluctant to waste time arguing, Elrohir gently lifted Celebrían off of the ground, holding her in his arms as if she weighed nothing at all. Elladan strode over to his horse, murmured words of sympathy to him over Anaron, and mounted. He then reached out to his brother for Celebrían. With the utmost care, Elrohir passed Celebrían to Elladan, who settled her carefully in front of him, holding one hand on his horse's reins and the other around Celebrían to keep her securely on the horse.

Whispering words in Elvish to make his horse understand the need for haste and smooth riding, Elladan turned his steed around and followed Elrohir out of the clearing, back towards the one place where Celebrían had a chance of survival: Rivendell.

ooOOoo

Celebrían was floating in the clouds, hovering above a black abyss. She was being drawn closer and closer to the dark chasm before her, and had finally resigned herself to leave the clouds for the blackness that called to her when suddenly, her beloved Elrond's face appeared before her. She hesitated, teetering between light and darkness. Her mate's face looked tired and strained, but his voice was strong as he began to speak to her.

"Celebrían, my love. Do not give up. Do you understand? Do not give up. Do not give in to the darkness. Come back, Celebrían. Come back to where you belong. Do not leave us. Come back to us. Stay with me. Look at me, love. That's it. Do not leave me now."

Celebrían struggled, fighting with all her might to follow Elrond away from the abyss that called to her. Her mate murmured words of encouragement to her the entire way, and she clung to the sound of his voice, a true lifeline, until exhaustion overwhelmed her and she saw and heard no more.

ooOOoo

Celebrían opened her eyes, blinking at the overwhelming brightness. Slowly, objects began to emerge as her eyes adjusted to the light. She was lying on a comfortable and familiar bed, with her arms lying on top of soft, white sheets that had been drawn over her torso. Wincing at a lingering twinge of pain in her wrist and the left side of her chest, just below her collarbone, Celebrían lifted her head off the pillow and fought back an ensuing wave of dizziness, closing her eyes. When her spinning head cleared, Celebrían opened her eyes again and glanced down at her right hand. She noticed her wrist had been wrapped in white bandages, and her hand was being held between two strong, gentle hands as familiar to Celebrían as her own. She raised her eyes to meet those of Lord Elrond's, who was gazing into her face with tears in his eyes.

The effort to raise her head had already drained her energy, and Celebrían sank her head back onto her pillow in relief, closing her eyes once more.

"Is this a dream?" she murmured.

"I wish it was," replied the soothing, deep voice of her lover, although he sounded anguished, as if he were in pain, "So I would not be looking at the weakened state of my beloved's body, beaten and tortured. So I could imagine away the panic and despair I have felt over the last few days."

His voice changed, growing more angry and cold, but also tinged with hurt.

"So I would not have to wonder why my love chose to leave me when she was most vulnerable, to go gallivanting off to the Misty Mountains to fall straight into the hands of bloodthirsty orcs."

Elrond suddenly let go of Celebrían, and she opened her eyes quickly to see him stand up and walk over to the balcony of their bedroom. He was wearing robes of forest brown embroidered with intricate golden patterns woven throughout. His hair was pinned as it usually was, with two strands looped intricately in front of his pointed ears. As his hands rested on the balcony railing, his Ring of Power, Vilya, gleamed in the evening light. He looked more tired and weary than the last time she had seen him, what seemed like a lifetime ago, when she had bid him goodbye to begin her terrible journey.

"I would not ask for your forgiveness," Celebrían whispered, knowing Elrond would be able to hear her. "For I cannot forgive myself."

"I do not ask for your forgiveness, Celebrían," Elrond responded, still not facing her. "But I would ask _why_ you would choose to risk your life, to risk our child's life, with such careless abandon. Did I so offend you in any way?"

"Never." Celebrían closed her eyes, fighting back tears.

After a moment's silence, she summoned the courage to ask, "You know about-?"

"Of course I know!" Elrond spun around to face her. "I've spent the last five days beating back the poison from every part of your body. Don't think the child was spared!"

Celebrían had never, in the thousands of years she had been married to Elrond, heard him as angry and distraught as she did now. She wanted to soothe him, to do whatever it took to appease him, especially since he was right to be angry and question her so. Everything that had happened was entirely her fault.

"I was stupid, beyond foolish," she began, "I wanted to tell my parents first. They had been so upset when they learned about Arwen a century after she was born. I wanted to make it up to them."

The tears that had threatened earlier finally fell from Celebrían's eyes. "I was so, incredibly stupid to travel so lightly. I thought two guards would be more than enough, but I lost them to nature even before the orcs arrived. You should leave me, Elrond, and marry another more deserving of you, for I have caused you so much pain and sorrow, unrightfully so, and I can never make it up to you."

Elrond sighed, his body slumping in defeat as the tense anger in his stance slowly dissipated. He then crossed back to Celebrían and knelt by her bed, once again taking her hands in his.

"Nay, Celebrían, my love. You have given me greater joy than anything or anyone else I have encountered in this world in all my years. And I promise I won't leave you, not now and not ever. Forgive me, love, I did not mean to make you cry. Besides, I can never stay angry with you," Elrond said, the corners of his lips quirking ever so slightly upwards. He gently wiped the tears away from Celebrían's face with his thumb.

"And things can still be made right again, Celebrían…The child is still alive."

Celebrían breathed in sharply, looking up into Elrond's face with renewed hope and love in her eyes. She squeezed Elrond's hands gently, and he returned the squeeze with a hesitant smile. The two stayed like that, enjoying peace and hope and contentment, until well after the sun had dipped below the horizon and pitched the world into the darkness of night.

ooOOoo

Celebrían was perched comfortably in one of her favorite places, a nook created by the trunk of a tree and one of its large branches, in the forest surrounding Rivendell. Her child was nearly due, and she should have been happy and excited for the new arrival. But all she felt was turmoil. She should have delighted in hearing the birds singing through the trees of Rivendell, just as she had adored them before, but all she could hear now were the shrieks and cackles of the orcs as they beat her. The sunlight shining through the forest would have made her happy and content not long ago, but now all she could feel was the terror of gazing up into the sun and seeing its light reflected in the shiny black poison that dripped from an arrow pointing at her heart.

She couldn't be at peace after what had happened to her, no matter how hard she tried. Celebrían startled at the slightest rustle and fought back nightmares of being lost in the darkness of her conscience. Most nights, she would wake up screaming and sobbing, and even Elrond's gentle embrace and soothing words could not calm her immediately. Her beloved family could not give her the feeling of safety and contentment she had once shared with them before.

After nearly a year since the incident, Celebrían, as she pondered these thoughts in her favorite tree, was forced to come to the conclusion that she could no longer live happily in Middle Earth, no matter how hard she tried. And as such, it was time for her to leave. Celebrían had a sudden, unwavering urge to depart this land for the one place where she was certain she could find peace again. She felt the tug of a distant land calling to her, and she had no choice but to follow. Celebrían needed to sail for the Undying Lands and leave behind Middle Earth and all the creatures that inhabited it, from those that caused her pain to those whom she loved above all else.

Resting her head against the trunk of the tree, Celebrían thought about everything she loved that she would have to leave behind forever if she left, and she allowed tears to roll down her cheeks, tears that she allowed no one else to see. But Valinor called to her, and she could not ignore the call.

The next day, a trumpet fanfare announced the arrival of a grand procession. Celebrían, dressed in a dark green gown that snugly curved around her pregnant belly, stood arm in arm with Elrond, who wore complimentary grey robes laced with the same dark green color. Beside Celebrían, Arwen Undomiel stood regally in a form fitting gown of pale green, while Elladan and Elrohir wore dark grey tunics with pale green sashes as they stood to Elrond's other side. The family's formality soon relaxed as Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, leading the procession, entered through Rivendell's main gate.

"Mother, Father," Celebrían said with a serene smile as she let go of Elrond and stepped forward to embrace her parents.

"Celebrían, look at you! Soon to be a mother to a fourth," Celeborn sighed happily.

Celebrían's mother was more reserved, though. The glance she gave her daughter seemed blissful and loving, but her eyes bore into Celebrían's mind, and soon Celebrían could hear her mother's words in her head. _After the child is born, Celebrían, you will have seven days. That is when the ship will arrive to take you to Valinor._

Celebrían, unsurprised that her mother knew of her plan, answered in the same manner. _So soon? I will not know my child, and neither will the child remember me._

_It must be then, Celebrían, and no later, or the ship will sail without you and you will be unable to leave._

_Part of me wishes not to go though, Mother. How can I leave them all? How can I leave you or Father or Elrond? Is this really the right path?_

_Yes, dear one, I'm afraid it is. You will be sorely missed, but your time in Middle Earth is over. _

Celebrían's heart sank at the confirmation that she would truly be leaving, and especially at how soon she would have to depart. But Galadriel spoke again to her mind, comforting her.

_Do not grieve too much, my daughter, for we will be together again, at the end of all things. _

Before Celebrían could ask her mother what she meant, Galadriel broke the connection and turned to greet Elrond and her grandchildren. Celebrían stood off to the side, gazing into space as she thought about the meaning of her mother's words, until Elrond gently took her arm and led her into the dining hall.

Celeborn and Galadriel had planned to stay for the birth of the new child, although only Galadriel and Celebrían knew that the family would then travel to the Grey Havens, where the ship would be waiting to take Celebrían away from Middle Earth and back to Valinor.

The family did not have to wait long for the birth. Only two weeks after her parents had arrived in Rivendell, Celebrían was confined to bed and her pains began. Elrond was one of the best Elvish healers in all of Middle Earth, but Elvish custom prevented him from assisting Celebrían, as birth was a process for women only. Instead, he paced anxiously outside the door, much to the laughter of his sons, as Arwen and Galadriel stayed inside the bedchamber to help Celebrían.

But when Celebrían began to cry out in pain, even Elladan and Elrohir couldn't sit still.

"Come now, Elladan, you're as pale as Father!"

"And you're not?"

"I didn't say that. But you are, without a doubt, making everything that much worse."

"_I_, Elrohir, _I_? _You _are the one who is making everyone all the more tense."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Oh, shut up! Someday, Elrohir, you will find yourself on the ground with none other than _my _sword through your gut," cried Elladan in exasperation.

"I'm charmed that you care so much."

"Enough!" Elrond snapped at both his sons as another of Celebrían's cries split through the air. Everyone winced and Elrond even seemed to waver on his feet.

"Here, Father, sit down," murmured Elladan, guiding his father over to a chair beside Celeborn, whose face was impossible to read. Elrond sat reluctantly, waving off his son and pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand. Another cry, this one louder than before, burst from the chamber, causing Elrond to wince.

"You know, Elladan, I will take you up on that generous offer," said Elrohir, unable to stay seated in the hall.

"What are you talking about, Elrohir?"

"I've always wanted to see you try to stick your sword in my gut."

Glancing at his father, who didn't even look up, Elladan marched out of the hall with Elrohir on his heels.

In the courtyard outside, the twins sparred with each other. Their movements were graceful and perfectly attuned to each other, as if they were performing an intricate dance. The fighting helped lessen both of their nerves, although they still tensed at every shriek they heard from their parents' bedchamber.

Right after a particularly gut-wrenching scream, Elrohir winced and ducked beneath Elladan's sword before lunging at him. Elladan easily parried.

"You know, dear brother, I am eternally grateful to be of the male gender," said Elrohir.

"I am _not _having this conversation with you, Elrohir."

Elladan increased the speed of their fighting, forcing Elrohir to stop talking and concentrate on avoiding his brother's blows. Elladan suddenly lunged at Elrohir, but at that moment, their mother gave another earsplitting scream. Silence ensued, in which Elladan was still lunging at Elrohir, but both were not paying attention to their mock fight.

Then, at last, the cry of a baby could be heard from the chamber. Elrohir gave a sigh of relief and relaxed from his sidestep away from Elladan's sword. Elladan cried out, but neither could stop the inevitable. Elladan's sword grazed Elrohir's shoulder before Elladan could check his lunge.

"By the Valar, Elladan, you _are_ out for blood," Elrohir gasped in mock pain as he held his shoulder.

"Forgive me," Elladan said meekly, but he was already bounding up the steps back into the hall.

"Hey!" shouted Elrohir indignantly, running after his brother.

They reached Elrond just as he was about to enter the bedroom chamber with Celeborn on his heels. One hand already on the doorknob, Elrond glanced over at his sons, his eyes narrowing at the hand Elrohir was clutching his shoulder with. Blood had begun to seep out from between his fingers, staining the baggy white shirt he had been wearing underneath a tight black hunting vest.

"What happened to you?" Elrond asked, annoyance clear in his voice.

"Well-" Elladan began sheepishly.

"No big deal, Father," Elrohir quickly interrupted, gesturing with his bloody hand to the closed door before clapping it back over his wounded arm. "Hurry and open the door, Father. I for one want to see the new baby!"

Elrond's attention swiftly went back to the chamber as all four of them burst in. Arwen was standing over her mother, wiping sweat off Celebrían's brow while two Elf maids were cleaning up the bloodied linens. Elrohir winced at the sight. Galadriel was off to the side, even more radiant than usual, as she held a small bundle wrapped in white linen gently in her arms. Elrond immediately went to help Arwen tend to Celebrían, but Elladan and Elrohir went to see the new arrival in their grandmother's arms.

"You have a new sister," whispered Galadriel happily as the twins leaned over each of her shoulders for a better look. For once, both of the twins were speechless.

The baby was still newborn pink, but her eyes were already open and curious, and the brothers could tell she would rival Arwen for beauty one day. The most intriguing part of the baby though, was her hair. Out of all of Elrond's children, this newest child was the only one who had inherited her mother's light colored hair. But while both Celebrían and Galadriel had golden hair, this baby had blonde hair tinged ever so slightly with a bright silvery color. She was a true daughter of Celebrían, whose name in the Elvish language of Sindarin meant "silver queen."

As Elladan and Elrohir ogled at their newest sibling, their father was gently conferring with Celebrían.

"Arwen, why don't you go look at your new little sister?" asked Celebrían quietly. Arwen, however, did not have any wish to see the baby. In her eyes, the new baby was responsible for the attack on her mother that had left Celebrían scarred and different from the woman Arwen had known before. But, sensing her mother wished to be alone with her father, Arwen nodded her head and left the pair to join her grandfather, who was waiting patiently behind the twins for his turn to look at the baby.

Elrond gently brushed a wayward lock of hair back from Celebrían's face, then took her hands in his.

"You are by far the bravest and strongest woman ever to grace this earth," he murmured to his wife as he touched his lips to her hand.

"Elrond," Celebrían whispered with a tired smile. After a peaceful silence, in which both basked in the glory of new parenthood, Celebrían finally whispered, "I think we should name her Celedë, after my father…and myself."

"Of course," Elrond replied, "I cannot think of any name more suitable. We shall love her and raise her together, just as we did with the others."

The happiness in his voice tore at Celebrían's heart. She glanced at her mother. Galadriel made eye contact with Celebrían before giving a slow nod of her head.

"Elrond, my beloved," Celebrían began, "You must know by now. I am not the same person I was before I left on my ill-fated journey to Lothlórien."

Elrond made a movement to say something, but Celebrían stopped him with a finger to his lips.

"I'm not happy anymore here, my love, and I'm afraid that-" she hesitated for a moment, taking a steadying breath, "-my time in Middle Earth is over. As we speak, a ship is coming to the Grey Havens to take me to the Undying Lands. I will be there to board it and depart from this land in seven days."

Elrond's reaction was intense and immediate. He gasped in shock and pain, his entire body stiffening as though ice-cold water had been thrown on him.

"You…you can't leave me," Elrond stammered. Though he knew in his heart that Celebrían had not loved and laughed like she had before her attack, and that her words, deep down, were true, his mind could not comprehend a life without his beloved. Celebrían gave him a wan smile, tears coming to her eyes.

"You will have me, in our children and here," she said softly, putting a hand over Elrond's heart. "And it won't be forever, Elrond. You will sail to Valinor as well, my mother tells me, and we will be together again, after the end of all things."

"Elrond," came a sympathetic, musical voice from behind them, "I think it's time you came to look at your new daughter."

Galadriel placed the baby in Elrond's arms, watching him carefully to make sure he wouldn't drop the baby in his shock, before ushering everyone else out of the room.

"I will tell you what has come to pass outside," she said to Celeborn and her other grandchildren, "But for now, they need this time alone."

Elrond's first glimpse at his new daughter was blurred by his tears. He had been so happy to have another child, but now he realized he had been given her at the steep price of his mate. He couldn't be angry with the child though; she was a part of him and a part of Celebrían, born from their deep love for each other.

"She looks like you," he finally choked out, "So beautiful. And her hair…it's almost silver."

Now Celebrían was crying too, but she managed to whisper, "I have the utmost faith in you to raise her like we did the others."

She smoothed back the hair from Elrond's face and kissed his brow, and then the pair cried into each other in a futile attempt to lessen the pain and loss of being separated for only the Vala knew how long.

ooOOoo

Arwen was numb with shock, and from the slack expressions of her brothers, she saw that her brothers were just as stunned. It made her hate the new arrival even more. Not only had this baby been the sole reason for the dramatic change in Celebrían, but the little one was now responsible for tearing their mother away from a family that had already been so happy.

"Arwen," she heard her grandmother whisper to her. She looked up, so numb and angry that she couldn't even cry.

Galadriel's voice rang out in her head. _Do not blame your sister, for this is the way of things. It is no one's fault. No one can cheat fate or, otherwise, create a future that had not been there before. _

"No, it's not fate. This never would have happened if it hadn't been for _her._ I refuse to believe this is the 'way of things'!" Arwen replied furiously as she ran from the hall to her own bedchambers. With an angry shout, she unsheathed a dagger from the numerous weapons she stored in one of her cabinets and proceeded to stab at her bed vigorously. The mattress, the pillows, the sheets, nothing was spared as Arwen hacked into them with enraged vigor. When her bed was a mess of feathers and ripped cloth, she hesitated mid-stab, staring at the carnage she had wrought, before dropping the dagger and slumping beside her bed, her eyes unfocused and uncomprehending. Still, she could not weep.

Elrohir reached out and squeezed Elladan's hand. This brought a twinge of pain to his arm, pain stemming from a cut that seemed to have been made a lifetime ago.

"Here, let me," came Celeborn's voice as he kneeled beside Elrohir and gently took his wounded arm. Celeborn's voice had wavered, but his hands were perfectly steady as he tended to Elrohir, pouring a strong smelling liquid over the cut. The pain was fierce as the wound was cleaned, but Elrohir welcomed it and would have preferred it over the pain he felt in his heart. Celeborn gently but firmly bandaged the cut, and retreated back to Galadriel's side as Elrohir numbly murmured words of thanks. Unbeknownst to the twins, Galadriel and Celeborn silently left the room then, to leave the brothers to grieve alone and to mourn the loss of their only daughter by themselves as well. The twins were silent in the hall, each caught up in his own misery.

"After everything we did, Elrohir," Elladan finally broke the silence, "after saving her and healing her and everything…was it really all for naught?"

"Nay, Elladan," said Elrohir, "We gave her a second chance at life. It may not have been the life we would have wished to share with her-" Elrohir's voice caught and he fought back tears, "but we saved her life. And we want her to be happy, do we not?"

"Aye, Elrohir," muttered Elladan, "but not this way. Not this way."

And then Elrohir and Elladan, the brave sons of Elrond, collapsed into each other's arms, uncaring of how improper such an act might have been, and cried until the day of Celedë's birth came to an end.

_**Seven days later…**_

The procession had at long last reached the final destination that none of its party truly wanted to arrive at. The sun had just begun to set over the horizon, and the waves of the port of Mithlond seemed to be made of gold as they beckoned incessantly towards the sea. Celebrían dismounted from the pure white horse she had ridden and felt the pain of Anaron's death anew. In a strange and sad sort of way, this feeling of grief brought Celebrían comfort to know that she was making the right choice to leave.

Celebrían was dressed in a sparkling silver gown with a lacy silver headpiece that brought out the brilliance of her golden hair, which shined like starlight under the rays of the evening sun. Elrond dismounted beside her, his robes a dark, nearly black, grey. Galadriel and Celebrían stepped out of the carriage they had opted to take instead of horseback, with tiny Celedë nestled in a blanket of white linen in her grandmother's arms. As one, the entire procession seemed to give an inaudible sigh at the sight of a magnificent and heartbreakingly beautiful ship waiting at the dock.

"And so my time in Middle Earth ends," Celebrían whispered to no one in particular, "at the shores of the sea."

Slowly, painstakingly, each member of the family followed Celebrían's lead as she proceeded down the docks to the harbor. There was no one on board the ship, for the magic embedded in the wood by the Vala was sure to bring their child back to them without the need for guidance.

At the dock, Celebrían finally stopped and turned to face her family for one final goodbye. Galadriel handed Celedë, who was fast asleep, to Elrond as she and Celeborn stepped forth for a last embrace with their daughter. Tears welled in Celebrían's eyes as she wrapped her arms around her parents for the last time. Celeborn looked close to tears as well, but Galadriel's glance at her daughter was one of compassion and hope.

_This isn't the end, dear one. We will see you again. Only the Vala know when that will be, but take heart that there will come such a time. I know it in my heart._

When Galadriel and Celeborn stepped away, Celebrían turned to the rest of her family. In that moment, she was given a sudden vision, not an image but more of a feeling, that there was one family member amongst the party whom she would never see again. Without a doubt, although she didn't know how she knew, Celebrían realized that this would be the last time she would ever see one of her beloved daughters, and the new realization made Celebrían feel as if her heart was tearing itself apart. She uttered a choked gasp of grief, but refused to cry about her decision anymore. She had made her choice.

"My sons," Celebrían whispered as she stepped towards them, and they to her, "My strong, handsome sons."

"Naneth," they whispered in unison, as they had a tendency to do, "We wish it could have been otherwise."

"I know, dear ones, but the path has been set and we must follow it to the end."

"I will see you again, Naneth," whispered Elladan, fighting back tears. "This isn't truly good-bye."

"More like 'until we meet again'," Elrohir elaborated, sniffling.

"Of course," Celebrían murmured back, releasing her sons. She took heart that their words were true: she would see them again, just not one of her daughters.

Arwen was next. She hugged her mother tightly, but still refused to cry.

"I know you are bitter, love, but don't let your anger detract from our farewell," Celebrían said to Arwen.

"I am not. I will not be anything but sorrowful at this moment, but you cannot ask me to not be angry afterwards."

"Maybe not right after, but in time, I do ask that you accept your sister. She is not at fault for the way things have turned out. The fault is all mine."

"Nothing's your fault," Arwen muttered to her mother, who smiled, tears in her eyes as she considered that this could be the last time she embraced her eldest daughter. Mother and daughter held each other for a long moment. When they finally released each other, Arwen stepped back to make way for Elrond with her head down, refusing to meet her mother's eyes again.

"After so many years, Elrond," Celebrían began, "My love for you has never wavered."

"You will always have my heart," Elrond murmured back. He did not try to stem the flow of tears down his cheeks. One of them landed on Celedë's cheek and she stirred in his arms, causing them both to look down at their daughter.

"My precious little one," Celebrían took Celedë gently from Elrond, and held her close. "I know you won't remember me, but I will never forget you."

Celedë snuggled closer to Celebrían as she talked and finally opened her eyes. They were a startling blue, the same bright blue of Elrond's eyes. Mother and daughter stared at each other, as if memorizing each others' faces, until Elrond moved and embraced them both. Then he gently took Celedë back from Celebrían, almost hastily, as if he were afraid Celebrían would take their infant daughter away too.

Celebrían smiled at Elrond's protectiveness, then reached up and wiped away his tears away with her thumb.

"We will be together forever, Elrond. This I have seen." Celebrían gazed into his brilliant blue eyes and spoke to his mind, so that only he could hear her next words. _But I must warn you that in my wandering mind, I see that one of our daughters will never voyage across the sea. It will be her choice to stay, but promise me that her choice will be a worthy one._

"Of course, beloved," Elrond whispered aloud, his attention fixed solely on Celebrían, "Le melon." _I love you._

Then he leaned in close, and Celebrían and Elrond shared their last kiss on Middle Earth. It was long and sweet, and when they finally pulled away from each other, Celebrían's heart felt light with love and heavy with grief at the same time.

Celebrían smiled and gazed around at her loving family before turning away from them and walking to the ship. There was a plank already in place for her to walk onto the ship, and Celebrían was careful to remember every last feeling of the ground beneath her, for she would never walk on it again. She finally boarded the ship and pulled the board onto it, and the ship immediately began to move out of the harbor. Facing the shore, Celebrían solemnly raised a hand to her family and smiled through more tears. They raised their hands back to her in unison.

"Namárië," Celebrían called to her family, the setting sun casting both her and the ship in a brilliant golden glow. _Farewell._

As the ship became more and more distant, Arwen slowly stepped forward, drawn to the edge of the dock, and reached out to the ship as if she could pull it back to shore. Then she sank slowly to her knees by the edge of the water. Her shoulders began to shake with unrepressed sobs, and tears filled her eyes before spilling incessantly down her cheeks. Arwen finally let go of her anger and allowed grief to fill her heart, replacing the bitterness. At last, she allowed herself to cry. Her anguish was heard by little Celedë in their father's arms, and the baby opened her tiny mouth as well, wailing for their departed mother, Celebrían, the Lady of Lothlórien and Lady of Rivendell.


	2. A Promise and a Problem

_**A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed or read this story! Seeing how many people read this makes my day, but REVIEWS are even better! (*hint,hint. wink,wink. nudge,nudge.*)  
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_**Disclaimer: Characters, settings, everything that seems to come from the world J.R.R. Tolkien created DOES, and I don't own a lick of it!**_

The spasms started when Celede was only a few months old. Elrond had decided to keep her cradle in his bedroom, too lonely and grief-stricken to sleep by himself in the days following Celebrian's departure. It had been a full moon that night, and Elrond had finally dozed off into a waking dream, the Elvish equivalent of sleep, when a choking sound coming from Celede's cradle jolted him awake.

He leaped out of bed and ran to the baby, completely and utterly afraid of something happening to her, and gasped at what he saw. Celede was writhing in her cradle, her back stiff and her jaw locked as her arms and legs thrashed about uncontrollably. Elrond placed his hand over her, nearly covering her tiny torso, and whispered words of healing. He delved into Celede with his mind, feeling for abnormalities in an attempt to assess the cause of her spasms, but the answer was not immediately clear. There could not have been more of the poison in her system, for he had removed the dark substance from Celede when she had still been in Celebrian's womb. But then, his face tight with concentration, Elrond noticed that there was still a faint trace, an ever so slight shadow of the foreign evil flowing through Celede's veins. This must have been the source of the spasms, for Celebrian had described similar symptoms when she had been stabbed with the poison.

Panicked over the state of his daughter, Elrond desperately attempted to draw the shadow of the poison out, but to no avail. It slipped through his grip over and over, as if it truly was a shadow and could not be grasped. Finally, Elrond was forced to give up and admit that all he could do was try to calm Celede down and hopefully get her to relax. If she was calmer, then Elrond thought her spasms might subside or at least not be as painful as they obviously were.

Trying to calm himself down as well, Elrond sang a lullaby to Celede that he remembered Celebrian had used to sing to Arwen, Elladan and Elrohir when they were young. He sang of rebirth and spring and the glories of nature, ideas of joy and happiness that were devoid of fear or pain. Celede continued to spasm, but as she listened to Elrond's voice, she began to calm down. Her limbs thrashed less frequently, until they only gave an occasional twitch, and her back finally relaxed enough for Elrond to pick her up and hold her, her little body conforming to the shape of his arms. Being in her father's warm embrace seemed to comfort Celede even more.

When Celede finally fell asleep again, the spasms gone from her body, Elrond breathed a sigh of relief and looked outside to see that the sun had broken over the horizon. He had been with Celede the entire night.

Elrond emerged from his chambers still in his night robes, holding Celede wrapped tightly in several blankets. He met Arwen at the top of the main staircase of the family's living quarters. She was already dressed for the day in a gorgeous, slightly revealing lavender gown. Arwen glanced at her father as she began to descend, then stopped and did a double take at his bedraggled appearance.

"Father, what-" she began.

"Not now, Arwen," Elrond said, his voice weary but his face alert, "Take your sister. I need to start searching immediately. I need to find answers, find a cure."

"Cure, Father?" Arwen asked in surprise as Elrond thrust Celede into her arms, "Cure for what?"

At that moment, Celede started crying. Elrond anxiously looked down at her, scanning for any sign of the strange spasms returning, but there was no trace of her earlier affliction. Celede was wailing just like any normal, hungry infant would.

"I cannot explain," Elrond said as he rushed away down the hall towards his study, leaving Arwen to comfort the still wailing Celede. "Not yet."

ooOOoo

Elrond looked everywhere, in manuscripts, books, ancient lore, and even writing composed by men and dwarves. He searched incessantly for some clue or reference to the kind of affliction that Celede had suffered from, but he could not find any actual evidence or even rumor similar to her spasms. Elrond wouldn't eat, wouldn't rest, wouldn't pause for a moment in his relentless search for information. Elladan and Elrohir came and tried to ask him what he was looking for, but Elrond wouldn't stop his search to even answer their questions. Finally, after nearly a week of this extensive searching, Elladan and Elrohir worriedly summoned help for their father. Aid arrived in the form of a person whom Elrond had not seen in a very, very long time.

"Care to stop for just a moment to welcome an old friend?" came a voice from the entrance to the library Elrond had been scouring. Elladan and Elrohir peered around the walls of the entrance too, anxious to do something to help their father.

Elrond whipped around from examining a pile of manuscripts. He looked wearier than ever, and Elladan and Elrohir were shocked to see the haggard state of their father. The pair had managed to get Elrond to change out of his nightclothes when they first found him, but they had been unable to get their father to do much else since then.

"Mithrandir?" Elrond whispered incredulously at the wizard standing by the door, "What can you possibly be doing here?"

"Oh," Gandalf the Grey replied, leaning over his staff to look closely at Elrond, "I've come to make sure a certain elf lord doesn't work himself to death for reasons that no one, not even his own sons, have been able to discern from him."

Elrond turned back to the manuscript he had been reading and sighed, running a tired hand through his unkempt hair.

"I'm not mad, Gandalf," Elrond said, pain clear in his voice, "But I am afraid that there are no answers to the questions that have torn me apart these past few days."

"Oh? If the wise Lord of Rivendell has a question, it most likely has an extremely difficult answer, and so he should seek help from others to find a solution," Gandalf said cheerfully, "And here am I, one such other, whom you do not even need to ask for help. There are also two noble elf princes peering over my shoulders who are ready to help as well if you would be willing to let them."

Elladan and Elrohir guiltily pulled away from Gandalf, and the old wizard resisted the urge to laugh.

Elrond sighed again. He didn't move for a few moments, then he slowly turned around to face the company assembled in the doorway again.

"It concerns Celede," Elrond spoke quietly, almost in a whisper. Elladan and Elrohir exchanged uneasy glances and walked swiftly around Gandalf to move closer to their father, straining to hear his words. Gandalf removed his pointed grey hat, a worried look on his face, and placed it on top of his staff before following the twins to where Elrond stood unsteadily on his feet.

"Ah, yes, I was very sorry to hear about Celebrian. In fact, that was the final convincing your sons gave me to make me come see how I could help," said Gandalf quietly.

Elrond gave his sons a small smile. Elladan flushed with pride while Elrohir drew himself up smugly.

"They know me too well, Mithrandir. They know when I need help and from whom, even when I tell them nothing." Elrond sighed sadly before continuing, "It has been less than three months since she left, and it seems that, in my grief, I have grown an unhealthy attachment to Celede."

"Perfectly understandable," Gandalf murmured gently, encouraging Elrond to continue.

"A few nights ago, she woke me up with a strange cry. I found her in her cradle, contorted and thrashing about. Her poor little body was wracked by spasms, and it took me until nearly dawn of that morning to stop them. I don't know what it is. I don't know why it's happening. I don't know _how_ to help her. And I'm afraid-" Elrond choked on his words, "if anything happens to her, if anything happens to any of my children, I won't be able to continue."

Elladan and Elrohir, ever the twins, stiffened at the news of Celede's affliction in near unison. They cared for their little sister immensely as well, and now they finally understood what had caused their father to panic as he had.

"So you've been searching for answers to that problem," Gandalf sighed wearily, as if he knew the answers but wasn't happy about them. "I'm not sure you will be able to find a cure, short of sending her over the sea to Valinor." Elrond started, his already weakened composure falling steadily. "No, I cannot be parted from her, Gandalf," he nearly whimpered, "Please, there has to be another way."

"The poison in her system is gone, but the evil of it, forged in Mordor, is still there. That evil is an old trick of Sauron's, for it is enough to kill any man that has been poisoned by it, even if the poison in his body is extracted by Middle Earth's most capable healers. Celede is alive at this moment only because she is an elf with a powerful bloodline, and because she is also extraordinarily strong.

But now, Elrond, it pains me greatly to say that you are faced with a difficult choice. Celede will never truly be cured in Middle Earth, for the evil is a permanent part of her while she dwells here. There _are_ ways that can help keep the spasms away for longer periods of time or help stop episodes faster when they overcome her, but they will inevitably attack her again and again.

Your choices are thus these: either keep her here in Middle Earth and use those methods to help her live a little less painfully, but live here nonetheless, _or_ send her to the Undying Lands, which will cleanse her of the poison entirely, but will also take her away from Middle Earth forever," Gandalf said solemnly.

Elrond sank into a chair upon hearing Gandalf's words. He knew the right thing to do would probably be to send Celede away, so she would be free of the cursed spasms once and for all. But he also desperately wanted his daughter to feel the sun and nature of Middle Earth, as well as to meet and learn about the numerous peoples of Middle Earth who made the land so unique and different from Valinor, where only immortal peoples could journey to. More importantly, Elrond also knew that losing Celede so soon after Celebrian would drive him insane. He couldn't part from Celede; he wanted, he _needed _her to stay. Elrond grimaced at his own selfishness, but he simply could not send her away. Only Gandalf, Elladan, and Elrohir were present to hear his next words; they were the only ones who heard the choice that Elrond felt compelled to make.

"I cannot part with Celede, and so I…condemn her to a life on Middle Earth. I am a selfish and undeserving elf lord, a selfish father, and yet I know I cannot live with both Celebrian and Celede separated from me. You may judge me as you wish, although I know you cannot think worse of me than I already think of myself. I promise I will stop at nothing to ease her spasms while she lives in Middle Earth, but I cannot send her away now.

I am not being arrogant when I say that I am the leader of this realm, and I am essential to its upkeep. I created Rivendell, and I fear that my downfall will also be the downfall of our people. I would gladly die or leave Middle Earth with Celede for her sake, if I only had my life to give. But if I die, Rivendell dies as well, and I have foreseen that Rivendell, myself included, must also play a part in a coming struggle between good and evil on Middle Earth. Celede must stay here to allow me to continue to function and eventually help save Middle Earth, whenever that time may be."

"Then you are not being selfish, Father, in keeping her here," Elladan comforted quietly.

"But I am, Elladan. I am selfish because I would die if Celede was parted from me. I wouldn't be strong enough, I wouldn't have enough willpower to help our people in her absence. I would be unable to recover from a personal loss for the good of, ultimately, Middle Earth, so my selfishness will be responsible for her suffering to see that I never face that personal loss. I will be responsible for the pain she will experience in her life on Middle Earth, a pain that I have been given a choice to end, but I have chosen not to."

Gandalf, his head bowed at Elrond's words, walked over and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I am sure Celede, were she old enough to understand, would choose the path you have chosen for her," he said gently.

"That is something we will never know," Elrond replied, "for I ask all of you to keep this conversation in the utmost secrecy. I ask that you tell no one, not even Celede-especially not Celede, about the decision I have made today. Let them believe that there was never a choice in dealing with Celede's affliction, so they will never know how selfish and weak their Lord is."

"But that's a lie, Father!" Elrohir interrupted, "At least Celede has a right to choose for herself, when she is older. By then the pain of losing Mother will not be as overwhelming as it is now, and the pain of losing Celede will not be so-"

"Never, Elrohir!" Elrond raged, leaping to his feet. He took a deep, calming breath in order to speak quietly, but his words were laced with cold anger.

"The pain of being parted from Celebrian will not ever lessen for me as long as I stay in Middle Earth, no matter how long. It may do so for you, but never for me."

Elrond paused, breathing deeply, before pleading softly with his son, "Please, Elrohir, I cannot take any more strife, and I cannot bear to let Celede know the selfish decision her father made for her today for his sake. Please, Elrohir. Do this for me."

"At least make a promise to me, Father," Elrohir said heatedly, "Promise me that someday _you_ will tell Celede what has come to pass in this room today. I will keep your secret only if I know that Celede will hear of your decision from your own lips someday."

Elrond sighed tiredly, "You have my word, Elrohir."

"Then you have mine, and we have nothing more to say to each other." Elrohir turned on his heel and stormed out of the library, his footsteps loud and heavy as his robes billowed about him angrily.

Gandalf and Elladan watched him leave in silence, but then they both agreed to keep Elrond's decision a secret. Neither was as angry about keeping this secret as Elrohir had been.

"Now that her future has been decided," Gandalf finally said after a moment of silence, "we should try to make it a good one. And we can't start on that until you, Lord Elrond, have cleaned yourself up and had something to eat."

Elrond just nodded, his heart heavier than it had been before his sons had summoned "help".

ooOOoo

The four of them began searching again later that day, trying to understand what prompted Celede's spasms and what eased them away again. The search took more than a few days or weeks or even months. It took years of accumulating information to begin to piece together methods that would help Celede, details that unfortunately required them to watch Celede spasm again…and again. Elrohir was the most reluctant to look for information about the evil in Celede, but he was extraordinarily good at figuring out what caused Celede to spasm and what made her seizures stop again. Along with Arwen, he spent the most time with Celede, playing with her and teaching her skills that every elf maiden was required, by custom, to know. She was taught how to walk nobly and gracefully, as well as how to be a gracious host or guest. Besides etiquette, Elrohir also taught Celede how to wield a small dagger that could be kept in a hidden sheath in many of her dresses, just in case something should ever happen.

Elrohir soon discovered that Celede began to spasm after she had been particularly frightened by something. A few months after the search had begun, Elrohir and Elladan had been playing with Celede by a fountain in the courtyard, when a frog leaped out of the rushing water and landed on the giggling baby. She jumped in surprise as the large, slimy creature landed in her lap and croaked. Celede started crying in fright, and as Elladan and Elrohir tried to comfort her, the spasms began. That was when they also learned that Celede's episodes could stop almost immediately if she was pleasantly surprised. Elladan had rushed to his feet to run for Elrond, but as he did so, a sweet candy he had saved to give to Celede fell out of his pocket and landed in her line of sight. Celede stared at the candy and smiled, her jaw relaxing, before crawling over to the candy with a happy gurgle, as if nothing had happened. The twins glanced at each other in silent understanding before Elrohir picked Celede up and both of them ran to tell Elrond the latest development.

It was Elrond who later discovered that the medicinal powers of athelas, combined with honey and juice from Celede's favorite fruit, helped ease Celede out of episodes when they were unable to give her a happy surprise. He fashioned a sort of rope, made from cloth soaked in athelas, juice, and honey and twisted the cloth tightly until it resembled a thick cord. He then imbued the rope with magic to keep the liquids fresh and to keep the entire device from coming apart. The end result was a strand of the unique cord about as long as Elrond's hand and as wide his thumb, tied tightly at both ends. The cord would be placed in Celede's mouth during one of her seizures, and this would help her jaw relax. Then, when Celede bit down and the liquids flooded her mouth, the athelas helped stop the spasms, and the honey and juice helped soothe her and disguise the bitter taste of the athelas.

As Celede grew older, she herself learned things about her affliction that her family had not been able to discover. The spasms came when she was extremely nervous, scared, or upset about something, but sometimes, depending on the extent of her fear, Celede could restrain herself from seizuring, at least until she could call for someone to fetch her "candy rope", a term she coined for Elrond's medicinal device when she was little, so no one would know its true purpose.

The bitter irony of her condition was that the spasms were brought on by extreme fear, and Celede feared her affliction most of all. She was afraid of the pain and helplessness that gripped her during one of her seizures, and above all, she was terrified that others besides her family and Mithrandir would witness one of her seizures and think her weak or crippled because of it. Celede had no control over her seizures, which would usually begin after an adrenaline rush brought on by fear. Her hands or legs would start to twitch, and then her back would stiffen. At this point, if Celede remained calm, she was usually able to call for help and a relatively small seizure would occur. But more often than not, Celede would find panic at the beginning of an episode, especially if there were other people in the room besides her family, and the spasms following would be more painful and last longer.

And so, nearly one hundred years after Celebrian's departure, Celede found herself sitting precariously on a small branch at the top of a tree, reflecting on her miserable and pathetic life. Today, of all days, was Celede's hundredth birthday, and her father had decided to invite, in her opinion, pretty much all of Middle Earth to celebrate. Elves were coming from Lothlorien and Mirkwood, as were Men from the North and from Rohan and Gondor. The dwarves had been invited, but they had, thankfully in Celede's opinion, opted not to come. They excused themselves on the basis of dragons attacking their treasure, which had made Celede amused and almost grateful to the dragons for retaining some of the guests. It was late morning now, and people were already starting to arrive at Rivendell, where many of them would be glimpsing the youngest daughter of Lord Elrond for the first time.

Celede rolled her eyes, remembering Arwen telling her she needed to be dressed and ready to receive guests along with the rest of her family by noontime. The sun was nearly at its peak in the sky, and still Celede sat in the tree, dressed in a simple shift, grimacing at the thought of the number of people who would be staring at her that evening. _What if something scares me? What if I start spasming in front of everyone? _The thought was almost enough to send her into a seizure, which would NOT have been good at the top of the tree. Celede closed her eyes and leaned back against the slim tree trunk, scowling at her father's idea of a party.

He had told her that he wanted to celebrate her birthday, since, after all, she was now one century old. But Celede knew that becoming a centurion wasn't that big a deal, and her father also wanted the opportunity to talk with the other inhabitants of Middle Earth, and update himself on the on-goings of the world outside of Rivendell. The idea of Celede's birthday party was, in part, an excuse to gather Men and Elves together, for Elrond knew how much Celede hated being the center of attention.

"Celede! I know you're up there! Celede!" called a voice from below, breaking into Celede's thoughts. She snuggled closer to the tree trunk. _Maybe I won't answer. He probably doesn't know exactly which tree I'm in, but he just wants me to move so he will_ _know for sure._

"Celede! Arwen's looking for you, and she's _not _happy. Don't make me climb up there!"

Or maybe he did know which tree she was in. But there was no way he could reach her, for the branch was already bending under her weight, and she knew Elrohir wouldn't be able to even come close to her perch.

"Celede, you should be dressed already and standing by the Entrance. People are already coming!" called Elladan, "You know that, and our patience is wearing thin!"

Sighing, Celede leaned forward and looked down. Yes, her twin brothers were looking up the right tree, although they had been looking at a point on the other side of the trunk before her movement caught their eye. She knew it was better to just start down now, before anyone became any madder at her than they already were. As she began to turn around to climb down, she paused. She was wearing a thin shift and no undergarments, and her brothers were standing right underneath her.

Elrohir snickered, catching on to Celede's predicament as well. Elladan, ever the gentleman, turned away from the tree.

"Come along, dear sister," Elrohir said mockingly, "What are you waiting for? You know, if you had just come down and been ready when you were supposed to, you wouldn't be in this situation."

Mentally scolding herself, Celede sat back on the tree, thinking of a way out of the situation. _I can't go feet-first down the tree, so that leaves…_With a sigh but also a smirk at her new idea, Celede prayed to the Vala that this wouldn't end badly. Then she gracefully, slowly, stood up on the branch.

"Celede," Elrohir said warningly. Elladan spun around.

"Celede, what are you doing? Celede!" Elladan called, panicked.

_The expressions on their faces are absolutely priceless_, thought Celede as she took a deep breath and walked steadily out to the edge of the branch. The branch groaned under her weight and, amidst the frantic calls of her brothers, Celede dove forward, plunging head first towards the ground.

Usually when she did something like this, it was for fun and she would be landing in a pool of deep water. The ground was coming up fast, faster than she anticipated, but she knew she couldn't flip too early or her skirt would fly up and the whole point of this ill-conceived jump would be lost. So she tucked herself in at the very last moment and hit the ground with her shoulder, rolling with the force of the impact until she rolled to a stop, several yards from where her brothers stood slack-jawed. They immediately ran to her, and she grinned up at their incredulous faces.

"Celede, are you hurt?"

"Of all the stupid things…"

"I would have turned around-"

"But where would the fun be in that?" Celede smiled, allowing them to help her up. Brushing leaves and twigs from her hair and dress, Celede winced at an aching pain in her shoulder. It wasn't anything serious, but it was definitely going to be sore for the next few days.

"Ouch," she muttered as she walked alongside her brothers back to her chambers. Elrohir's glance was a clear as day: _You deserve every bruise you got from that fall._

But the gloating smirk that Celede was qualified to give him because of her jump…priceless.

ooOOoo

"How am I possibly supposed to get you ready in so little time? And you are absolutely filthy. What did you do? Fall out of a tree?" Arwen scolded Celede at the sight of her. Celede's smirk vanished off her face.

"The bath is cold, but you are going in anyway," she told Celede as she dragged her away from Elrohir and Elladan.

"Good morning to you, too, Arwen," Celede said in a false effort to be cheerful. Arwen just glared, and Celede's grin vanished instantly.

Arwen practically threw her into the bath, which was indeed ice-cold, and scrubbed at Celede's hair and body with one of her maidservants, Berenil. Celede winced when they scrubbed the tender flesh from her fall and she plunged her aching shoulder back into the water when they were done. _Maybe ice-cold isn't so bad after all._

The dress Arwen had had made for Celede was a light gray color intricately embroidered with sparkling silver thread, creating stars that danced across the gown when Celede moved about under the light. Although the dress fit snugly around Celede's figure, Celede had made sure that the sleeves were extra long, with large sleeves that hid her hands when she put them by her side. The reason for this, of course, was to hide any spasms Celede could potentially have during the course of the evening. It was her hope that, should anything go wrong, she would be able to flee the dining hall without anyone noticing. She had meant to store the candy-rope underneath the wide, silver sash that accentuated her waist, but Arwen had altered the gown so that it was too snug to hide the bulky object. Celede was forced to leave the candy rope on her nightstand in her room. Someone would have to run and get it for her if the evening went badly.

Not wanting Celede to be the chastest elf in the room, Arwen had made up for the lack of skin showing elsewhere by creating a wide v-neck in the gown. Celede almost choked when she saw the dress. _That is not what I agreed with. She must have changed it after I granted my consent. _

"Arwen, don't you think-" Celede began before Arwen interrupted her.

"Oh shush, it's not _that _revealing. Besides, there are going to be many important men at this celebration, and you want to win their approval as quickly as you can. In my experience, this is the fastest way to do so."

Celede sighed. It wasn't that Arwen liked fashion and showing off to people, but rather that Arwen knew how to manipulate the crowd to her advantage. She was right, the dress would help Celede stake her mark as a Princess of Rivendell. But that didn't mean that Celede didn't grimace as she slipped into the tight gown.

"Oh stop, Celede, it's not so bad. Smile like we've taught you. There now, you have such a sweet smile," Arwen said. That was the other thing Celede hated. She was one hundred years old today, and still everyone treated her like a little girl. Not that her actions were entirely mature, but still. She reasoned that she couldn't be mature if everyone expected her to be immature.

"There, ready?" Arwen asked, her excitement obvious in her voice. Rivendell hadn't had a gathering as large as this for quite some time. Everyone was excited, except for Celede, who was more daunted and nervous by this fact than anything else.

ooOOoo

Celede felt that if she smiled any longer, the muscles in her cheeks would simply slide off of her face. She'd been smiling for hours, from just after noon to now, when the sun had begun to sink below the horizon. She'd nodded to Elvish royalty, smiled at Men and their wives, smiled at more Elves, more Men, more Elves. Glancing at her family next to her, Celede noticed that they all looked rather tired. Elrohir wiggled his eyebrows at her, the only muscles in his face that he could move without causing pain. Even Arwen looked a little exhausted, although like her brothers and father, she didn't have to smile quite so much as Celede. They all knew many of the people arriving, and their reputations allowed them to not have to be as courteous to some of the guests, but Celede was new and she was the actual host of the party. So she continued to smile at each and every one of the arriving guests, clenching her teeth together as she did so, and ignored the pain in her aching muscles.

"The Mirkwood contingent has yet to arrive," Elrond whispered to Elladan, just before the sound of trumpets blasted through the hall.

"Not to worry, Father. That must be them," Elladan replied.

Elrohir nudged Celede with his elbow. His and Elladan's robes were a deep black trimmed with silver, and Celede thought that she had never seen him more handsome.

"This is the last of the guests, so one more effort at a smile and you can glare for the rest of the night," he whispered.

Celede laughed at this statement, knowing it wasn't actually plausible.

"If that glorious sound is the introduction to my evening, then surely tonight will be better than anything I could ever have imagined," came a soft, lilting voice from the doorway.

Celede whipped towards the sound of the voice, her lacy silver head piece jingling as she did so. The contingent of Mirkwood elves had just passed through the entrance to Rivendell, with a tall, blonde elf adorned in lots of gold jewelry and carrying a jeweled scepter, leading the way. On his right walked the elf who had made the comment, dressed in a dark green tunic trimmed with gold. Celede stared at him, immediately entranced by his brilliant blue eyes. He looked at her too, longer than might have been deemed appropriate for a first meeting, as the lead elf greeted Elrond and his family.

"Lord Elrond," the elf said with a slow nod of his head, "it has been too long."

"Our duties have kept us from meeting for quite some time," Elrond agreed respectfully, "I am honored that you have come to our humble party, King Thranduil."

Celede broke eye contact with the handsome elf and looked up at her father in surprise. King Thranduil was a name she had read about in her history books, but she never thought he and her father could have known each other.

Thranduil turned to greet Arwen next, then Elladan and Elrohir, before pausing at Celede.

"So this is the youngest child of Elrond," he murmured, studying her face.

"I'm not a child," Celede blurted out, annoyed, then bit her lip as everyone turned to stare at her. She had rudely spoken out of turn to the King of Mirkwood, and she winced at her father's smoldering stare.

"Forgive me, my King. It was not my place to speak," Celede said in deference to make up for her slip in protocol.

"You are forgiven, little one," Thranduil smiled, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "After all, you are only one hundred years old today."

Celede just nodded silently at his words, but she was mentally scolding herself for her immaturity inside.

Once Thranduil had passed by her into the dining hall, Celede looked over to see that her father was now greeting the strange elf who had met her gaze earlier.

"Prince Legolas, as always, it is an honor," said Elrond with a sincere smile.

"Likewise," Legolas replied with a nod before moving on to Arwen.

"My lady, as beautiful as ever," he said with a smile, which she returned. For some unidentifiable reason, Celede felt angry at her sister for smiling back. As she was trying to figure out why, she was surprised to watch Legolas casually greet her twin brothers with a hand on their shoulders and then a firm clasp of each others' wrists.

"You still owe me a horse," Elrohir said in way of greeting. Elladan snorted and shook his head. Even Elrond looked amused, and this sentiment clearly showed Celede how young and out of touch she was from everyone else.

"In our last escapade, which, I might add, was your idea, I fell out of a tree and broke my favorite bow. Surely I can keep the horse, as compensation," Legolas said sternly, although his eyes twinkled with mirth.

"Yeah, yeah, you always have some excuse or another," Elrohir smirked as he pushed Legolas away from him and towards Celede. "If you'd seen my little sister this morning, I'd have my horse and you'd have only your shame."

Legolas raised an eyebrow at Celede, inviting her into their banter as if she had always belonged. Celede felt a surge of gratitude towards him.

"Suffice it to say it wasn't one of my better mornings," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. Legolas grinned and bowed to her.

"Glad to meet your acquaintance, daughter of Elrond," he said, refraining from using the word "child", which was not lost on Celede.

"Likewise, Legolas, son of Thranduil," she repeated, before he turned to walk into the hall and she and her family followed.

ooOOoo

"Come on, Celede, one dance! I'm your favorite brother!" Elrohir whined to her. Half the night had already passed, and Celede had remained stoically in her seat, refusing to join the other dancers in the hall.

"You can't sit here all night! Besides, you love dancing, and you're so good at it too!"

Celede shook her head and reached for another wine glass. As long as she stayed where she was, there was no chance that she would exert herself or be surprised or do anything that would bring on any sort of spasm. She was also self-conscious of her dancing, and she worried that her anxiety could also trigger her spasms as well.

"If you won't dance with your brother, at least do me the honor," came a voice from behind her seat. Celede jumped and groaned internally. Even though she'd barely heard it, Celede could already recognize Legolas's voice. _Do not spasm. You weren't scared. You're fine, absolutely fine, _Celede thought to herself as she tried to calm down, but she felt her heart pick up speed as she stood up from her chair and turned around to face Legolas. He offered his hand, his eyes questioning. Celede didn't know what to do. She could refuse her brother, but not the Prince of Mirkwood, and not when there were so many other people watching her. Shooting her brother a glare, Celede turned to Legolas and put her hand in his.

"Of course," she said to Legolas, who led her out to the dance floor. His hand felt wonderfully warm and strong around hers, and she thought that maybe one dance wouldn't be so bad after all.

Then her left hand, the one hidden by her gown and was not being held by Legolas, twitched. A surge of panic rushed through Celede, _please no, not now, not now…no, no, no…_

Hoping she'd imagined it, she turned to face Legolas and put her hand on his shoulder. She felt it spasm again, stronger than before, although Legolas didn't seem to notice. Desperate, she looked to her brother, Elrohir, and tried to show her panic with her eyes. He just laughed and waved her off, mistaking her anxiety for her upcoming dance with Legolas and nothing more.

"Are you all right?" Legolas murmured, studying her face, "You are rather pale."

Celede could not think of a way to get out of the situation, not without telling Legolas of her affliction and leaving the dance floor, where most of the guests had stopped to watch the pair. The music began, and Celede ran out of time to think. Legolas put his hand on her waist, and they were dancing.

The piece had a moderate tempo and was meant to accompany a dance that exemplified the grace of the Elves, who could dance more lithely and elegantly than any other on Middle Earth. The Men in the room stopped what they were doing and simply watched Celede and Legolas in awe…which was not what Celede had been hoping for.

One of her legs twitched as spun away from Legolas and she would have fallen, if not for his strong hand holding her upright. An eyebrow raised at her, Celede just shook her head, brushing it off as an accident, and felt her jaw lock. Searching the crowd, she finally found Elrohir again and shot him a piercing glare. Finally comprehending the problem, Elrohir blanched and began to move swiftly to the exit. As he passed by Thranduil, the king stopped him with a word and began to engage him in conversation. Like Celede, Elrohir could not excuse himself unless he told the king Celede's secret. He couldn't do that to his sister, for he knew how much she desired to keep her affliction a secret. _Hang on Celede, just a little longer._

The high point of the piece was coming, in which Celede was supposed to perform an elegant spin as Legolas danced in a larger circle around her. As Legolas flung her gracefully away from him to start the spin, Celede closed her eyes and prayed to every Vala she knew to help her out of her predicament. She was spinning and spinning, and then she felt her back stiffen. Her leg was also about to give out, of that she was sure, but she couldn't stop now. _Just a little longer, a little longer. _

And then the music cued her to slow her twirling and Legolas, she had forgotten this part of the dance, caught her in his arms to finally stop her spin. When his arms came around her, his body delightfully warm and comforting, pressed against her back, Celede was surprised and flushed with elation at her proximity to Legolas. It was enough. She felt her back loosen and jaw unlock as the pleasant surprise sent a wave of happiness through her and beat back the evil. Finally, overwhelmed and relaxed, Celede sagged into Legolas and listened to the cheers of her audience in relief.

"You are a beautiful dancer," he murmured in her ear as he let her go. He held on to her hand however and escorted her back to her seat. By the time she sank into her chair, she was shaky from the adrenaline still coursing through her body. But another dance had started and the audience had turned its attention elsewhere. _I did it, it's over_, she thought happily as she allowed herself to lean back into her chair, even though it wasn't good form to do so.

"Celede! Celede!" came Elrohir's panicked voice as he ran up to her, "Are you okay?"

She nodded from her seat, eyes still closed in relief. She felt Elrohir relax beside her too, and then she heard Legolas's questioning voice.

"Why wouldn't she be? Is she ill?"

"N-no," Elrohir stuttered unconvincingly as Celede opened her eyes and looked at him. He drew himself back into his goofy façade and replied, "I just wanted to make sure that she wasn't too shaken up by having _you_ as her dance partner."

Legolas snorted as his comment, but Celede saw the hurt in his posture as he bowed to her.

"Thank you for the evening," he told her stiffly, "But if you will excuse me…"

Not even bothering to finish his statement, Legolas turned on his heel and walked into the crowd, towards his father.

"Elrohir," Celede scolded once Legolas was out of hearing range.

"Don't worry, I'll make it up to him. Besides, I had to think of something or he would have known. He's too intelligent for his own good, or yours, for that matter," Elrohir replied thoughtfully. For some reason, Celede's eyes filled with tears and she felt like crying.

"Why am I like this, Elrohir? Isn't there a way to be rid of these seizures?" Celede asked sadly.

Elrohir bit his lip, badly wanting to tell her that there was an alternative. But he had made a promise nearly one hundred years ago, and he was bound by his word to keep the truth from her.

"None that I know of," he whispered, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see her expression, "I'm sorry."

Then he excused himself from the party and walked to his room, stopping first at Celede's chambers to put her candy-rope back on her bedside table.

ooOOoo

But then, after this party but before the War of the Ring, something happened to Celede that changed her life forever. Little is known of exactly what happened, for only she and Elrohir truly knew the details and they kept them an utmost secret. What is known at this point is that Celede's life was drastically altered because of this happening, which began with a Man and ended with a different Celede. A Celede who was serious and solemn and did everything she was told. A Celede who never smiled and laughed anymore. A Celede so traumatized that she made a promise to herself that she would never love again.


	3. The Passage of Time

_**A/N: Sorry for the super long wait between updates! I've been really busy, but now that I'm on vacation I've finally found time to write some more**__** (although this chapter is a little iffy-it's definitely not my best writing...).**_

_**To those who reviewed asking about time: Celebrian went across the sea (and Celede was born) in the Third Age 2510. That means Celede celebrated her hundredth birthday in the Third Age 2610. There is no specific date for this chapter, though I would say around the Third Age 2815ish. To give a sense of time, Aragorn was born in the Third Age 2931.  
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_**Disclaimer: I own no part of J.R.R. Tolkien's world or the world Peter Jackson created from it. I'm only writing this for fun. I also want to cite arwen-undomiel(.com), a website, for the Elvish words and phrases I learned and used from its wonderful dictionary.  
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"Celede? Are you off moping again? She will be back, you know, so you might as well do something productive with your time!" Elladan called, his head tilted up towards the balcony Celede was perched on. Celede sat on the railing of her balcony, her back leaning against the stone foundation of their home as she watched a procession of elves head along the path out of Rivendell. The procession was made up of elves on foot and on horseback, and Celede could now only barely glimpse the raven-black hair of her sister as she turned around the bend. Arwen had decided to pay a visit to Lothlorien to see Celeborn and Galadriel, but Celede had opted to remain in Rivendell. She did not particularly wish to see her far-seeing grandmother, not after what had happened. Fighting back the swarm of terrible memories that threatened to overcome her, Celede reluctantly turned her gaze away from the procession to the ground, where her twin brothers were looking up at her expectantly.

"Father says you must study languages with him, but if you want to come with us, I can persuade him to let you practice archery with us instead," Elrohir called. Celede rolled her eyes at Elrohir's enticing tone, although she was tempted to go with them. After the...incident that she had been desperately trying to forget for the past two hundred years, Celede had forced Elrohir and Elladan to teach her how to fight. She wanted to learn everything, from basic defense to using a bow and arrow to fighting with the elves' traditional long daggers. Because sword fighting was extraordinarily similar to dancing, Celede had become very adept at hand to hand combat. However, although she trained constantly, Celede tired quickly using the two long daggers to fight, so she had tweaked her armament to include one long dagger along with a small, throwing knife.

But her favorite pastime was archery. She loved the feel of the arrow feathers against her cheek as she nocked and drew her bow. And when she hit her target, the surge of exhilaration she felt at her success was unlike anything she had ever felt. So Celede was sorely tempted by Elrohir's offer of archery, especially when her alternative was studying foreign languages. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy studying with her father, but she was absolutely terrible at speaking in any language that was not her native Elvish. The words felt garbled and hard on her tongue, and she'd ended many a lesson storming out of her father's study, usually muttering a mixture of Elvish, English or Dwarvish swears. When her father insisted she begin learning the language of Mordor as well, Celede had nearly refused to attend any more study sessions.

"I'm coming with you," Celede called down to her brothers, "Just let me change into something more suitable first."

Elladan rolled his eyes and shrugged to his brother. When they had first started teaching Celede how to fight, they quickly realized that many of the lunges and tactics used in fighting were more cumbersome to achieve when Celede was wearing a dress. Her reaction time was also greatly slowed, and the brothers had been ready to stop the training then and there because of it. But Celede had refused to stop. Instead, she refused to wear a dress of any kind, rightfully claiming that her clothing was inhibiting her from becoming a better fighter, and had insisted on borrowing a pair of their leggings. Elrohir eventually agreed to let her borrow some of his clothes for that one practice, although Elrond nearly ended the training himself when he saw his daughter running down the stairs in a shirt and leggings. Of course, after that one day, Celede refused to stop practice. She railed against her father for nearly all of that evening and eventually stormed out of dinner that night, refusing to speak to anyone. Elrond, though angry at his daughter, could not bring himself to upset her more, especially after her sudden transformation from a smiling, happy girl to a silent, depressed one.

As the practices continued and Celede made no move to end them, Elrohir begged Arwen to make Celede clothes of her own so she wouldn't continue to wear his. Arwen, for her part, was adamant that her little sister could not wear simple leggings and loose shirts on a daily basis, so she crafted a unique outfit for Celede: a long-sleeve, forest green v-neck blouse that hugged Celede's body to better her fighting skills but also surreptitiously reveal her feminine figure, and a pair of leggings under a miniskirt to keep Celede more modestly dressed than simple leggings. Celede herself added a belt with a sheath for her throwing knife as well as straps to tie her quiver and long dagger sheath to her back.

As Celede darted back into her room to change from the blue farewell dress she had worn to see Arwen off, her handmaiden, Belaraniel, came into her room with a stack of sheets.

"Right on time," Celede exclaimed as she walked swiftly to her wardrobe and swung the doors open. "I need to change since I'm going out with my brothers."

Belaraniel quickly deposited the sheets on the bed and walked over to Celede to help her undress. As Belaraniel unlaced the back of the dress, Celede impatiently fixed her long, golden hair into a messy braid.

"My lord Elrond thought you were to study with him today," Belaraniel said quietly. Belaraniel had been Celebrian's handmaiden before she had departed over the sea, and had chosen to care for Celede afterwards. Because of this, she knew the royal family of Rivendell better than almost any other elf, and cared for Celede as if she were her own daughter, although Belaraniel was always sure provide her opinions in the respectful and subservient manner expected of a servant.

"Yes, I know. That's why I'm going," Celede replied with a slight smirk as she shrugged out of her dress. She quickly threw on her blouse and began tugging her leggings on as Belaraniel laced her shirt up.

"Elrohir offered to talk with Father," Celede continued. She paused before the mirror by her wardrobe before reaching for her miniskirt. "I think he knows how upset I am about Arwen," she murmured quietly.

Belaraniel's heart acted for Celede. "She will not be gone long, only a few centuries at most."

"You forget how young I am, Belaraniel," Celede said, "I am only a few centuries old. I have not yet come to see time as you do. A few centuries seems like an eternity to me."

"Maybe for now, but as the days pass, you will feel that these coming centuries will not seem as long as they may now, on the day of her departure."

"Possibly," Celede responded, clearly unconvinced. Belaraniel took the belt with Celede's throwing knife sheathed inside it and wrapped it around her slender waist.

"If you knew you would miss her so much, you could have gone to Lothlorien as well," said Belaraniel quietly. Celede shrugged lithely as she strapped her quiver and long dagger over her back and gazed at her final appearance in the mirror. A warrior princess stared back at her, seemingly ready for action. Celede stared into her own eyes, searching for answers to give Belaraniel without informing her of her true reasons for refusing to go with Arwen. She sighed.

"It is not yet the right time for me to see our grandparents again," was all she could think of to say.

"Very well, my lady," Belaraniel replied, disappointed in Celede's answer. She knew Celede was hiding something from her, from all of them, and it hurt her to see that her charge did not trust her enough to confide in her.

Celede reached over and picked up her bow as it rested beside the door. Then she walked quickly out of her room with words of gratitude flung carelessly over her shoulder and didn't look back. Belaraniel thought she seemed to be trying to flee the room without looking like she was, and the thought hurt her even more.

ooOOoo

Belaraniel had finished changing the sheets and was preparing to take the laundry from the room when none other but Lord Elrond himself stepped into the room. When Belaraniel turned from the bed towards the door, she jumped at the sight of him and dropped some of the sheets. He gracefully crossed the room to her and helped her gather up the sheets before depositing them back on the bed. It was one of the characteristics she loved about serving Elrond and his family. As much as she acted like a servant, each of them treated her as an equal. She guessed that if their house had not been so large nor their appearances so important to the other elves of Rivendell, the family would not have any servants at all.

"Celede is so different from the little girl I used to know," Elrond said abruptly, turning towards the open balcony of Celede's room. "She used to show every emotion all over her face. If she was sad, or scared, or angry, you could tell just by looking at her forehead." Elrond chuckled at the memories before growing serious again. He still refused to look at Belaraniel.

"And when she laughed, she made you laugh too. Her smile, her laugh, were so like Celebrian's. Like a beam of the sun's rays chiming merrily as it falls to the earth. But she- she's different now." Elrond stopped talking abruptly.

"I remember," Belaraniel finally spoke from behind him. "I remember both of them. Celebrian was always so happy and open, especially with her family. Especially with you."

She watched Elrond cringe ever so slightly. If she had been any other elf, she would not have noticed, but having been a part of Elrond's household for centuries had made her one of the most observant beings to his every action and emotion, second only to his children. She knew the memory of Celebrian keeping Celede a secret and then departing from him so suddenly had torn Elrond's heart apart. Celebrian had torn them all apart, but the worst thing was not that she had hurt them, but that hurting them had been so completely out of her character that she had made them question who she really was. Belaraniel herself had only recently reconciled with Celebrian in her mind, and she knew that reconciliation required forgiving Celebrian, not creating a new opinion of who Celebrian had been.

"She loved you, my lord," Belaraniel said gently, wondering if she, a simple handmaiden, could be speaking to Elrond in this way, "Cherish her for who she was, not for her poor judgment about Celede. Do not change your opinion of her, not for anything. You simply need to find it in your heart to forgive her." Belaraniel bit her lip, wondering if she had gone too far.

Elrond sighed. "You speak words of wisdom, Belaraniel," he finally said, "I'm glad you have served us for all these years. I am very grateful to you. But Celebrian is not the reason I came here. I came here because you are like a mother to Celede, and I wondered that if she would not tell her father what happened that night so long ago, she might have turned to you."

It was Belaraniel's turn to sigh. "She tells me nothing. She insists nothing is wrong. But I know her smile does not light the hall of Rivendell anymore. Her laugh does not inspire the birds to sing along with her. Perhaps her affliction wears down on her. It may not have been that night that changed her so."

"Perhaps, but I believe it was that night," Elrond replied.

That night, the rain had been pouring down in torrents as thunder and lightning had danced and clapped over Rivendell. Elrond had been in his chambers reading a book when he had heard the patter of multiple pairs of boots climbing up the landing. Curious and wary, since all of the members of his family had adjacent rooms on the same landing, Elrond had grabbed a sword from beside his wardrobe and unsheathed the weapon. He walked silently across his room and peeked open the door. The scene he saw in the hallway outside caused him to drop his sword and fling the door all the way open.

Elladan and Elrohir were supporting a nearly unconscious Celede, who was wearing nothing but a thin nightgown, between them. All three were soaked to the bone, and Celede's nightgown was nearly transparent as it clung to her body. Her wrists and ankles were chafed and bleeding, and a cut extended from her left temple into her hair, staining her golden locks with red. At the sight of her father, Celede weakly pulled away from her brothers and screamed. Elrohir swore as he looked up from the ground and saw Elrond. Elladan swiftly stepped in front of both them and blocked Elrond's view.

"What's happened?" Elrond cried. "Is Celede alright?"

"She's fine, Father," Elladan said, although the tension in his voice betrayed his lie.

"Where have you been? Let me see her!" Elrond attempted to push Elladan aside, but Elladan refused to move.

"Elladan, get out of my way!" Elrond nearly snarled in his fear. Then for the first and only time in his life, Elladan directly disobeyed his father's command and pushed his father back into his chambers. Elladan swiftly locked the door behind him.

"Like I said, Father," Elladan repeated, "she will be fine. We found her, and that's all that matters."

"Elladan," Elrond was breathing heavily, his robes dampened by Elladan's, but his voice remained powerful and cold. "You will move aside, and let me see my daughter immediately."

"Forgive me, Father," Elladan replied wearily, "but I will not move. Her physical wounds are superficial, but her emotional wounds have left her deeply traumatized. I fear that your intrusion will hurt her more."

"How can that be?" Hurt laced Elrond's voice, "I am her father! I love her. She cannot be afraid to trust me with what has happened!"

Elladan was silent, his arms crossed as he continued to stand in front of the door. Finally, he whispered slowly, "I do not think she does not trust you. I think she is ashamed of what has occurred. I cannot tell you anymore, for I myself do not know exactly what happened. Celede had been gone all day, that much we both know. But what you don't know is that Elrohir was covering for Celede. He told us she had gone out on a walk with Belaraniel, only I found Belaraniel cleaning my chambers later that day. She had not heard from Celede all morning."

"And you didn't tell me?" Elrond interrupted, suddenly angry, "You didn't tell me my daughter was missing?"

"I didn't know what to think, Father. Elrohir knew where she had gone; of the two of us, I believe she has always been closer to him. I-" Elladan stuttered, "I didn't want to get him in trouble with you. I realize now that my actions were irresponsible, but at the time I thought my reprimand would be enough. He laughed at me though, and told me he would show me where she had gone later that night. He told me she happy, and he was happy for her. He even said I should rejoice at her happiness too. I was confused, Father, and I apologize for not coming to you sooner.

Tonight Elrohir took me to a human pub, but made me promise to wait outside as he went to see Celede. I heard a fight break out, but I assumed that it was Men being the ridiculous creatures they are. I think now that Elrohir may have initiated the fight. He came out a little while later with Celede slung over his shoulder. She was in spasms, but he'd already placed her candy rope in her mouth. He insisted on carrying her on his horse, and that we must not tell you. I am already breaking part of my promise in telling you all of this," Elladan said grimly, but he continued. "Celede's seizure had stopped by the time we reached Rivendell. Our horses are still at the entrance, still out in the rain with their saddlebags." The elves treated their horses as cherished friends, and to leave them out like animals was incredibly unjust in their opinion.

"We tried to sneak her back to her room without you noticing, but I guess we should've known better."

"Which pub was she at?" Elrond demanded, still looking like he was ready to barge past Elrohir.

"I cannot tell you, Father." Elladan replied stiffly, "I cannot go back on my promise to Elrohir.

"You already have."

"And I shall go no farther."

"Elladan!"

"Father."

But Elrond could not glean any more information from Elladan no matter how much he stormed at his son. In the days that followed, he interrogated Elrohir numerous times, even losing his cool demeanor at one point and angrily shouting at Elrohir in the library. And still, Elrohir told him nothing. All Elrond could get from Elrohir was an apology for being so foolish. If it had been any other elf than one of his daughters, Elrond would have admired Elrohir's stoicism to keep a secret. But because Celede was involved, Elrond was furious at his son's silence.

Elrond was gentler with Celede. It was in the days that followed that Elrohir noticed the vast change over his youngest child. She looked blankly at the wall as he would gently question her, unseeing and unsmiling. Occasionally she would shake her head or tears would roll down her face, but after that night, Elrond neither saw his daughter smile nor heard her laugh again. The one small shred of information he could infer from his observations and interrogations was that a Man had been involved. The incident had taken place in a human pub, and in response to his questions, no matter how unrelated they were, her only answer was "I hate him. I hate them all. I curse that day Men were introduced to Middle Earth."

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into years, Celede began to become less depressed. She retained her sense of humor and her caring personality remained unchanged, but she never smiled at others or laughed as others laughed at her jokes. The best word Elrond could describe for her now was indifferent to everything, and he said as much to Belaraniel, whom he realized had been standing patiently behind him all this time.

Elrond turned around to face her, and was slightly surprised to see the tears in her eyes. He realized that she must have been lost in memory as well. She had only seen Celede the morning after that night because her quarters were far enough away from them that she had not heard the commotion. Elrond wondered if this was why she was not as convinced as he was that Celede's sudden transformation had been because of that night.

"I am certain that it was that night, and not her affliction, that changed Celede," Elrond reiterated. "Can you recall the last time Celede had one of her seizures?"

This made Belaraniel think. She glanced involuntarily over at the candy rope by Celede's bedside.

"I cannot," she said thoughtfully, "Could her illness have been cured?"

"I wish that were possible," Elrond replied, "But we both know that nothing on Middle Earth can heal her." He still refrained from telling Belaraniel, as close as she was to their family, about the option to heal Celede by sending her to Valinor.

"I think that her seizures have not been so frequent because whatever happened that night traumatized her. She has no spasms because she is not nervous or scared anymore, and that is because everything must seem trivial in comparison to that night." Elrohir paused, but Belaraniel said nothing.

"Sometimes I marvel at the similarity between mother and daughter. Both have such beautiful, golden hair and graceful features. Both have the same laugh and smile that can brighten the world on the cloudiest day. And both do not trust me to know their secrets."

"That's not true, my lord," Belaraniel blurted out. Elrond raised an eyebrow, and she bowed her head in deference. But for once, she didn't care about talking out of place.

"They both love you, and they both have the highest respect for you. They both, and Celede especially, only wish to earn your love and respect too."

Silence ensued as they stared at each other. Belaraniel held Elrond's gaze, even though every part of her told her to lower her eyes to the floor.

Finally Elrond spoke, "I am sorry to have taken up so much of your time." With a slight nod to her, he walked swiftly out of the room, robes swishing about him regally. Belaraniel was once again left in Celede's room with the sensation that her companion had been anxious to flee from her as quickly as possible without revealing their intention.

ooOOoo

Celede was supposed to meet her brothers at the stables, but when she arrived, she found only horses whickering at her in greeting. She felt slightly remorseful at having left her father, but she quickly reminded herself that this was Elrohir's idea. As she waited for her brothers, she walked among the stalls until she reached a sturdy black mare with white stockings and a streak of white running from the top of her head to her pink snout.

One hindrance at being immortal was that one's horse did not live forever. The elves had, over the years, been able to breed and care for horses that could live longer lives than normal, but a life of a few centuries still could not compare with immortality. Elladan and Elrohir had owned many different horses throughout their lives, so they knew how to cope with the inevitable deaths of their animal friends. Celede, still very young, had lost her first horse only a few decades ago. The grief had sent Celede into one of her longest seizures yet; it had lasted more than a day. After that particularly nasty episode, Arwen had spent long hours with Celede, showing her how to meditate and clear her mind.

"There will be other times when you will feel loss and grief," Arwen had said, "But you can't let those feelings take over or you will destroy yourself. I should know, for they almost destroyed me once, a long time ago."

"When we lost Mother?" Celede had asked quietly.

"Yes," Arwen had said, her voice barely audible. When Celede opened her eyes after that meditating session, she had glanced over to see if Arwen had finished and was shocked to have seen silent tears rolling out of Arwen's closed eyes, creating small rivers down her slender cheeks.

"Celede? Are you all right?" Elladan's voice broke into her reverie.

"Yes," Celede replied, solemn as ever, "But I miss my horse."

The black mare nickered indignantly at Celede's words and nuzzled her hand, looking for a sugar cube or some other kind of treat that she knew Celede always brought for her.

"But you have Anara now," Elrohir said kindly as he watched the mare take the sugar cube from Celede. The black mare, Anara, had been named after her grandfather, Anaron, the horse that died to save Celebrian during her attack in the Redhorn Pass.

Celede opened the stall and talked gently to Anara as she led her horse outside. Since they were only going a short distance to the archery fields, Celede had no need to put a saddle or even a bridle on her horse. The elves never used bridles on their horses, for the idea of a metal bit in their friends' mouths was distasteful to them. Celede had been taught how to use one anyway, since she had been told that the horses who lived among Men did not understand Elvish commands and therefore needed the bridle and reins to guide them.

Celede grabbed Anara's mane and swung gracefully up onto her back, enjoying the warmth of her horse and the light feel of her pants, which didn't require her to worry about the way her skirts were situated.

Elladan and Elrohir did the same with their identical brown stallions, and soon the three siblings were heading for the practice fields at a steady canter.

ooOOoo

"What am I doing wrong?" Celede cried out in frustration, "The one thing I love doing and I'm terrible at it. I haven't hit a single target since we've been out here!'

Elrohir released his arrow as she spoke. She watched as it soared through the air and hit the target dead center. Then she just turned and glared at him.

"Oh relax, Celede," Elrohir said, lowering the end of the bow to the ground, "You've been doing this for what, two hundred years? I myself have been doing so for two thousand."

"Besides," Elladan piped up from Elrohir's other side, "you _have _been hitting the targets. Just not…that near to the center…" He faltered as Celede turned her glare on him.

"If that target was an orc charging at me, I'd hit 'not that near him' and then he'd still be charging at me. 'Not that near' isn't good enough, Elladan," Celede practically snarled.

"Archery requires peace of mind and extreme focus," Elrohir said mildly as he broke up the argument between his siblings, "Why don't we stop for the day and pick it up again tomorrow? There's still some time before the sun sets, so why don't we practice some sword fighting?"

Celede sighed, feeling young and immature again. Once again, her brothers were treating her like a child, but she knew now that it was her fault for acting like one.

"Forgive me, my outburst was quite childish," she said to her brothers as they walked across the field to retrieve their arrows.

"There's no need to forgive, Celede," said Elrohir. Elladan smiled and got a dreamy look on his face. "Remember when we were her age, Elrohir?" he asked, "I think Father was close to disowning us and sending us to Mordor himself."

"Ah yes, you are remembering the chicken incident, are you not?" Elrohir reminisced, "He had to greet King Thranduil that day covered in chicken feathers."

Elladan broke down in laughter, and Elrohir soon joined him. Celede's lips twitched, but it had been so long since she had last smiled that her lips didn't seem to know what else to do. The thought quickly made her solemn again. Elrohir noticed and his smile faded to a frown.

The trio finished packing up and led their horses to the neighboring field.

"Who first, Celede?" Elrohir asked, drawing his long daggers. "You and me, or me and Elladan?"

"How about we all fight? A three-way battle, as it were?" Celede replied.

"Interesting," said Elladan thoughtfully, then smirked at Elrohir, "this could be fun."

Then all three of them darted into the arena. The field had been constructed with large open spaces, but also areas of tall grass or even forest. There were also boulders strewn about to provide additional cover and more sport.

Elrohir leaped nimbly onto a boulder as Elladan ran to the center of a clearing and shrugged his shoulders as if to say, _Come and get me. _Elrohir leaped off the boulder with a shout and charged his brother.

Celede darted behind a tree and peeked out, watching her brothers. She enjoyed watching them, expert swordsmen, almost more than performing the intricate dance herself. They moved fast, almost too fast for the human eye to see, but she watched them in silent excitement. It was almost as if they knew what move the other was going to perform before he did so, but Celede thought this was more because of their closeness as twins than the actual art of sword fighting.

Elrohir swung from the side, but Elladan had already anticipated his attack and countered with a lunge of his own. Elrohir switched tactics and continued his swing to slam into Elladan's lunge with a metallic shriek of metal on metal. The two strained against each other for a moment before they stepped away at the same time. Then Elladan took the initiative and swung at Elrohir's head. Elrohir leaned back and arched his neck to let the blade past just above his nose. At the same time, Elrohir was swinging one sword up at Elladan, who nimbly sidestepped around the blade and lunged again. Their swords clashed together over and over, but neither could gain the advantage.

After watching the two duel for a little while, Celede realized she couldn't let them have all the fun. She snuck from her tree to a hiding spot behind the boulder Elrohir had occupied. Her brothers had been fighting close to the boulder, occasionally using it to try to beat the other by jumping onto it and leaping sideways to gain the advantage of height. _Just a little closer, _Celede thought silently to her brothers as they fought, _keep coming this way._

Celede unsheathed her long dagger and grabbed her small dagger, still in its sheath. They were using real, sharp swords, and so they depended on each others' skills to ensure that no one would get hurt. Celede used her small dagger for throwing, and the sheath would protect her target from actually getting stabbed. Unlike the bow and arrow, Celede was uncommonly good at throwing knives and hitting her intended target. Deftly holding her knife at the ready, Celede peeked around the edge of the boulder. Her brothers were coming closer, but they were so focused on each other that neither had seen her. Elrohir leaped sideways onto the boulder and then leaped sideways off of the rock just as quickly. He spun over Elladan's head and parried the swing Elladan had aimed at him. When he landed, his back was only a few feet from Celede's hiding place.

Celede darted out and threw her dagger. It hit Elrohir hilt-first in the center of his back, but Celede was already charging Elladan, unsheathing her long dagger. With a cry, she swung at Elladan, who nimbly sidestepped. Celede had been taught well by her brothers, however. She knew how to throw force behind her swing but not her body, so when her sword went cleanly through the air that Elladan had been standing in just a moment before, Celede was able to spin and parry her brother's lunge before he could take advantage of her imbalance.

She jousted with Elladan for a while before she really began trying to defeat him. She only had one blade while he had two, so Celede began to try to tactfully move towards her dagger. Elrohir had disappeared from where she had hit him, so Celede also tried to keep one eye on her surroundings, constantly scanning for any sign of movement that would reveal Elrohir. Part of her knew that Elrohir was too great a hunter to reveal himself so easily, but she didn't want him to catch her off guard if she could help it.

As she dueled with Elladan, she realized he knew that she was trying to retrieve her weapon. Whenever possible, he would slash at her and force her to defend herself by moving away from the boulder. When she was forced to sidestep yet again away from the boulder to avoid Elladan's blow, Celede decided to try a new tactic. She feinted running past Elrohir's right, and as he moved to intercept her, she jumped up over his left shoulder. His surprise caused him to hesitate for a second, and this gave Celede the opportunity to land on his other side and run for her throwing dagger. She knew Elladan would be right behind her, so as soon as she had grabbed her knife, she jumped straight up onto the boulder. As she ascended, she heard the crunch of metal upon rock where she had been only a moment before.

Crouched on top of the boulder, Celede could still not see any sign of Elrohir. Elladan, however, was preparing to leap onto the boulder to follow Celede. She saw his muscles tense as he prepared to leap and realized that he would undoubtedly be able to beat her in the small area on top of the boulder. If she jumped down, then he would still have the advantage of height. Celede concluded that she couldn't let Elladan jump. As he prepared to spring, Celede swiftly threw her knife at him, forcing him to relax his crouching position for a moment. Elladan swung up with one of his daggers and knocked the knife aside, but Celede had already jumped down from the boulder. She threw her long dagger to one side of Elladan as she fell towards the other. Elladan swung both daggers over his head to parry Celede's long dagger away, but that left him exposed for an instant. That instant was all Celede needed as she landed on top of Elladan, knocking him to the ground.

Elladan had lost one of his daggers when Celede jumped on top of him, and as such, Celede only had to worry about one hand. They scuffled in the dirt beside the boulder until Elladan rolled her over his head. She landed awkwardly and struggled to breathe for a second. Turning her head, Celede saw her throwing knife lay on the ground right beside her. Grabbing it and unsheathing it, Celede ran to Elladan, who was still on the ground, and threw herself by his head, pressing her knife against his throat.

"Surrender," Celede said between gasps as Elladan breathed shallowly beneath her blade. With a slow grin, Elladan dropped his daggers, for he had managed to acquire his other weapon when he threw Celede off him, and began to bring his hands above his head. Then he stopped suddenly and Celede felt the cold metal of a blade pressed against her own throat.

"That was a good fight, sister," Elrohir smiled, "Only you've forgotten that where Elladan goes, I go too."

Celede relaxed her knife against Elladan and rose to her feet. Elrohir grinned and dropped his sword off her throat too, then proceeded to help Elladan onto his feet.

"You cheated," Celede said matter-of-factly, "First, this was a three-way fight. That means we all go against each other. There is always one against the other two, and never two against one, like what just happened here. Second, I beat you. If this had been a real fight, you would have been dead and bloody and unable to help Elladan here as I beat him."

"If this were a real fight, I don't think Elladan would have lost. You just used some…unconventional tactics in defeating him. If Elladan was an orc, and I admit he's not far off from one, he'd have teeth and pointy bits of armor and would really not be that fun to tackle. Jumping on top of your enemy may be okay when your adversary is the kind and rather soft Elladan, but any other creature would have defeated you if you employed that move against it."

By the time he had finished his little speech, both Elladan and Celede were glaring at him.

"And how do you explain your own defeat?" Celede demanded.

"Eh, I admit, I wasn't paying as much attention as I would have done on the battlefield, but if I had been, you wouldn't have been able to come within a thousand yards of me," Elrohir replied with a careless shrug.

"What about 'soft'? By the seas of Valinor, Elrohir, what do you possibly mean by calling me soft?" cried Elladan. Elrohir took a step back at the sudden glint of malice in his brothers' eyes as Elladan walked conspiratorially up to Celede, carrying three long daggers.

"My dear Celede, I believe our brother needs to be taught a lesson," said Elladan innocently as he handed a weapon to Celede.

"I could not agree more, Elladan," Celede said, her face also innocently blank. Both held up their weapons and began to advance on Elrohir. Elrohir took a step back and chuckled weakly as he drew his own long daggers from their sheaths behind his back.

"You can try," Elrohir responded, mustering up as much false confidence as he could.

Celede and Elladan charged at the same time.

Even with two worthy opponents, Elrohir was able to hold his own for quite some time. It was only when Elladan held Elrohir's attention as Celede jumped on him from behind were the siblings able to subdue their brother. Grinning in triumph, Elladan rubbed his brother's face in the dirt. As the pair laughed and scuffled like children, Celede turned away from them and looked up at the sky. The sun had just begun to descend below the tops of the trees around them when she noticed a strange cloud moving very quickly and getting larger as she watched. Soon the cloud had passed over the setting sun, and Celede noticed that it wasn't a real cloud, but a swarm of some sort of bird.

"Elladan, what is that? That flock of birds: it's moving quite quickly," Celede called softly. Elladan jerked his head up, then leapt to his feet, pushing Elrohir into the ground.

"What are they doing here? They aren't supposed to be able to breach the boundaries of Rivendell!" Elladan whispered harshly as Elrohir jumped to his feet.

"They are coming closer," Celede warned, "Although I would love to know what they are."

"Who could they be working for?" Elrohir wondered out loud.

"Who are they in the first place?" Celede said impatiently.

"Hush, Celede," Elladan said as he moved toward her. He hastily took her arm and pulled her behind the boulder they had been fighting on, out of sight of the strange birds. Elrohir was right behind them. Celede remained silent, sitting between her brothers. Because she couldn't see the flock anymore, she strained her ears and listened for it. Soon she heard the heavy caws of birds. They sounded threatening somehow, unlike the birds native to Rivendell, and Celede pressed herself harder against the boulder as if she could hide herself better that way. She could feel the tension in both of her brothers as they concentrated on listening too.

Seconds dragged out into minutes, each one feeling like forever. Celede thought that if time moved this slowly, the centuries in which she would have to wait to see Arwen again would be infinitely longer, no matter what Belaraniel said. She focused on keeping her breathing silent and steady as the croaks and caws of the birds became louder and louder. Just as she was beginning to fear that her anxiety would trigger a seizure she hadn't had in a long time, the cawing began to fade away. The birds never flew over the boulder. Eventually, their harsh caws became quieter and quieter until Celede couldn't hear them anymore. She remained pressed against the boulder for a few moments afterward until Elrohir breathed a sigh of relief. Celede exhaled the breath she didn't realize she had been holding in as well.

"That was exciting," Elrohir whispered. Elladan rolled his eyes as he stood up and peeked around the boulder.

"They've gone back to wherever they came from," he said over his shoulder. Elrohir stood up and turned to help Celede to her feet.

"What were they?" Celede inquired again.

"They are called _crebain_," Elrohir finally answered, "Rather nasty and intelligent birds that are sent as spies by the forces of evil. The last time I saw them, at the end of the Second Age, Sauron had employed them to count the numbers of Men and Elves that had rallied against him. The birds are native to Dunland or Fangorn Forest, so they would not come to Rivendell unless instructed. They are certainly spying for somebody, but who that person is and for what purpose they wish to spy on Rivendell…I cannot say, but it cannot bode well for us."

"We must inform Father, and the day grows late," Elladan finally replied. "This is troubling news indeed, but we must not jump to conclusions until we have spoken with Father."

The trio swiftly gathered their weapons and ran to their horses. Elrohir mounted his horse first and turned to look at his siblings by their mounts.

"Well, since we need to hasten our ride back to Rivendell, I propose a friendly competition. Let us race down, and the winner of the day is whomever reaches our dinner table first."

Elladan and Celede jumped gracefully onto their horses as Elrohir spoke.

"You are just upset at having lost the fight today," Celede teased, settling herself on Anara's back. The crebain incident had shaken her, but because Elrohir was being so jovial, she trusted that everything would be all right.

"On the contrary, dear sister, my feelings have nothing to do with it. I am merely seeking to redeem myself for the mistakes made today. Fairly, I might add," Elrohir said as Celede rolled her eyes.

"You will be looking for redemption for a long time," Celede said challengingly. Then she suddenly urged Anara onward, leaving her brothers to indignantly shout after her and give chase.

Anara's mane whipped around Celede's face, but she didn't care. The feeling of her horse's muscles charging beneath her sent tremors of pure exhilaration beneath her. As she listened to the gallop of Anara's hooves pounding on the trail, she felt like screaming in delight and her throat tickled as she breathed. For a moment, she thought she might do something she hadn't done for more than two hundred years. She thought she might laugh. Her diaphragm shook as if to let loose a peal of laughter, but something clenched within her and she stopped abruptly. She took several deep breaths as Anara galloped over the trail. It felt like she had forgotten how to laugh, just like she had forgotten how to smile earlier in the day. A wave of sadness and disappointment overcame her as she heard the pounding of other horses racing behind her. Urging Anara onwards, Celede focused on beating her brothers back to the stables and the feeling of overwhelming happiness was lost.

Around one of the final curves into the valley of Rivendell, the path from the practice fields turns onto a narrow outcropping on the side of the cliff before weaving its way down the valley to the heart of Rivendell. At any time, this portion of the path offers a scenic view of the valley that encompasses Rivendell, but there are no railings to protect a traveler if he or she should slip off the side. There are rooftops of balconies that jut out of the cliff below and above the path, but below those houses is a thundering river into which the numerous waterfalls of Rivendell feed into, and eventually whose waters will travel out to the sea of Valinor. Usually a traveler sticks close to the path and is careful not to stray too close to the edge, but as they neared the cliff side, Celede and her brothers were not paying attention to the sudden turn onto the cliff until it was nearly too late.

"Woah!" Elladan called out. He had been right behind Celede and Elrohir until he realized that the curve in the path was too sharp to make at a full gallop, especially on the Elves' faster horses.

"Celede! Elrohir! Stop!" he cried desperately, "The road grows too steep!"

Neither of his siblings heard him, and Elladan forced his steed to pick up the pace again, realizing he needed to get closer to Celede and Elrohir in order to stop them.

Celede was racing neck in neck with Elrohir. She could hear the labored breathing of his horse as well as Anara's as they followed their riders' commands to pick up speed. She was turned towards Elrohir, watching any progress he was making. Finally, she looked up at the path ahead. As they broke through the trees and the sharp turn in the cliff came into view, Celede shrieked at Anara to stop. Anara snorted as she came to a halt, still a few hundred feet from the cliff. Elrohir rushed past with a cackle. Celede called to him, but he didn't stop.

Then she felt a second rider fly past her. She watched with bated breath as Elladan charged towards the cliff, desperate to save Elrohir. Anara started moving towards the cliff as well, even though Celede had not commanded her too. However, Celede did nothing to stop Anara. She could tell that Anara was in control of her speed all the way to the cliff as she cantered to Celede's brothers. Her heart was in her throat as she watched her brothers continue to fly towards the edge of the cliff.

"Elrohir! Stop!" Elladan cried again. Elrohir glanced up at his brother's words and finally comprehended the situation. He yelled at his horse to stop, but it was too late. Elrohir had reached the cliff, and his horse couldn't stop fast enough. Celede watched in horror as both horse and rider began to slip off the edge.

Then Elladan was there, grabbing his horse's mane with one hand and reaching for Elrohir with the other. Elrohir reached for his brother and caught his hand. Squeezing his horse with his legs and holding a handful of his horse's mane tightly in the other, Elrohir swung his horse to a stop around the curve. Pebbles fell down the side of the cliff, bouncing off of the rooftops into the churning water below. Elrohir gasped, still grasping his brother's hand.

"Thank you, Elladan," Elrohir choked out between breaths, then chuckled weakly, "I guess I am simply not meant to be the winner today."

Elladan released his brother's hand and knocked him over the head with his palm.

"_Dôl lost lîn_," Elladan snapped back, although his eyes betrayed his relief that his brother was still alive next to him. _Your head is empty._

Celede came up between her brothers and hugged them both to her, although when she released them, she also smacked Elrohir over the head.

"And what were you saying earlier today? You have two thousand years worth of experience? Your head is still as hollow as an orc's," she teased.

"I am feeling rather winded," Elrohir urged his horse into a walk.

"And that, Celede, is the closest Elrohir gets to admitting he was wrong," Elladan whispered to Celede as they followed their brother slowly back to the stables.

ooOOoo

"Are you sure, Elladan? Crebain from Dunland?" inquired Elrond. He was pacing the library after dinner while Elladan and Elrohir sat on a couch facing Celede, who lay along another couch, half-reading and half-listening to the conversation.

"Absolutely. No other flock of birds can move that quickly. No other bird has a purpose like the crebain do."

"But who could be commanding them, Father?" Elrohir inquired, "Sauron's dead isn't he? The Ring is lost. Nobody's seen it since Isildur died."

"But it still exists," Elrond said bitterly, "Isildur was foolish. He let his greed overcome him, and so the Ring overwhelmed him. If he had only cast it back into the fires of Mordor when he had the chance, there would be no doubt about the existence of the Ring."

"Is it really such a bad thing, Father?" Elladan asked quietly, "The Ring, I mean. You have a ring of power too."

Celede sat up curiously at the ring her brother pointed to on Elrond's right hand. It was an elegant ring, with a beautiful blue sapphire set intricately in a golden band.

Elrond sat next to his daughter and put his hand out, showing all three of them the ring.

"Elladan is right. This ring _is _a ring of power. Its name is Vilya. But the One Ring is pure evil, Elladan. Vilya has great power to heal and preserve, but the One Ring was created to dominate all other rings of power. It cannot be controlled by any who wish to use it, no matter for what purpose. The One Ring corrupts and destroys. It will do nothing else."

Elladan said nothing in response to his father's gentle rebuke. Celede reached out her hand and touched the blue gemstone, marveling at its elegance. Elrond smiled at her and drew her close with his other hand. She rested her head against the inside of his shoulder for a while, seemingly content.

"So Sauron is dead?" Celede finally broke the silence.

"Maybe, and pray to the Vala that he is. But there is a chance that he is still alive, and unfortunately, I think he's still out there, biding his time," Elrohir replied.

"I agree," Elrond said, "But the magic embedded within Rivendell will keep out any of his evil at least long enough for us to escape. Besides, Sauron would attack the world of Men before he dared wage war against the Elves."

Celede stood up. "You are right about that, Father," she said, "Men are weak and easily conquered. They are selfish and greedy and corrupt. Maybe this Sauron is not so bad after all, if he wishes to rid Middle Earth of the world of Men."

"Celede!" Elladan exclaimed, "Men are far better than orcs or the other evils that Sauron controls. Not all Men are bad."

"We will see about that," Celede said with a shrug. Bidding good night to her family, she walked out of the library to the staircase that would lead to her chambers.

Elrohir had been silent throughout the entire conversation, seemingly lost in thought. As his brother and father rose to leave, he raised a hand to stop them.

"One last question, Father," he said, "if there is magic that guards Rivendell's borders, how did the crebain manage to pass through? They didn't venture far, but I'm sure they were within the border."

"I do not know the exact answer, Elrohir, although that is a very good question," Elrond said tiredly. Celede's strange outburst had saddened him greatly and made him wonder again about what had happened that night. "Evil is always searching for loopholes to escape its limitations. Perhaps the crebain meant no harm, or perhaps they are not directly involved with evil. I cannot tell you at this time. But I fear that darkness will be upon us again soon. No matter how weak Men are now, they will need to unite in order to have the strength to face the coming evil."

"It will require a powerful man to unite them," Elladan said, "He will most certainly be a great king to behold."

"How can such a Man come to be?" Elrohir inquired, "Even now, I hear rumors of corruption within the great kingdom of Gondor. The world of Men is already showing signs of falling."

"Patience, Elrohir," Elrond said, "The time of Men will come, and Men will be powerful when it does, but that time is not yet upon us. I foreseen that this great king of Men will arrive, in Rivendell no less, but I cannot say when. All we can do now is wait for the storm to strike."

_**The War of the Ring is coming up, slowly but surely. Aragorn will be appearing next chapter :) . I don't know when I will be able to update next, but I promise that I will not abandon this story!  
><strong>_

_**Last but not least, review, review, REVIEW!**_


	4. His First Accomplishment

_**A/N: Wahoo! Another update! My apologies for being so slow. I'm so busy, it seems I only have time to write during long vacations! **_

_**Disclaimer: Me? Invent The Lord of the Rings? Haha. Funny.  
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Celede popped yet another berry into her mouth and grimaced when her brother glanced in her direction.

"I know, I know," Celede said after she swallowed, "Pick the berries. Don't eat more than you pick."

With an exaggerated flourish, Celede reached out and daintily picked a clump of blackberries off of the bush they were growing from, carefully avoiding the thorns surrounding the fruit. She picked one out of the bunch and put it in her basket. Making sure Elrohir was watching, she picked another berry off the bunch and also placed it gently into her basket. Then she picked a third berry off of the cluster and swiftly popped it into her mouth.

Elrohir rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort when Elladan's voice called to them from further into the forest.

"Celede, Elrohir! Come look at what I have found!"

Elrohir immediately turned away from the blackberry bush and set off down the path towards Elladan's voice, barely glancing over his shoulder to see if Celede was following. Celede popped another berry in her mouth before placing the rest of the cluster of berries she still held in her hand into her basket.

Tracing Elladan's trail and the occasional sound of his voice, Celede followed Elrohir off of the worn path they had been treading and deeper into the forest. Suddenly, the forest opened into a clearing, in the middle of which stood a large tree. Elladan was sitting by the base of the tree. As Elrohir and Celede approached, he cheerfully bit into an apple he held in his hand before gesturing grandly to the tree above him with the apple he was eating.

"Welcome, dear siblings," he said, his mouth full of apple, "to this oasis in the forest, home of the largest and most fruitful apple tree I have ever laid eyes upon in all my years."

"That's impossible, brother," Elrohir said, trying not to gape at the towering tree, "An _apple _tree? I must have misheard you, sitting there so impolitely talking through a mouthful of stolen fruit, no doubt."

Elladan swallowed with an audible gulp to Elrohir and Celede's sensitive Elvish ears. Elrohir pulled his gaze away from the enormous tree to shoot his brother a look of mock disgust. Elladan grinned and leaped up from the base of the tree.

"You heard me correctly. This tree bears the fruit of the apple," he said with exaggerated grandeur and another careless wave, "And I must say, this apple might be one of the best I've ever tasted as well." Elladan took another large bite from the apple.

"That's unnatural," Celede finally spoke, still staring up at the tree, "No apple tree grows that large. It's even bigger than an oak tree!" She finally tore her eyes away from the tree to stare at the apple in Elladan's hand.

"And Elladan, that fruit is as big as your head! Surely this seems at least a little suspicious to you," she continued, "What if it's poisonous? What if that isn't really an apple?"

Elladan shrugged and began to speak, but this time, it was Elrohir who interrupted him.

"Relax, sister, it's a perfectly normal apple tree. Well, that is if you discount its outstanding size and flavor of the apples. I heard Father telling Arwen about such a tree a few years back. He said that there is a clearing in Rivendell that has been blessed by Yavanna, Queen of the Earth. He planted an apple tree for Mother in the center of that clearing, since apples were her favorite fruit, without realizing that the clearing was special. Only after the apple tree had grown unnaturally large did he realize that the clearing was beloved by the Valar. This must be that clearing, and that must be the tree Father planted long ago."

As Elrohir explained the tree's history, Celede slowly lowered her basket of blackberries to the ground. She now stared wistfully up into the boughs of the tree. The glistening, round red apples grew in the upper branches of the apple tree, meaning that in order to pick them, one would have to climb the tree. Not only did Celede enjoy climbing trees, but she also had a particular taste for apples, which she realized now must have been one more trait she had inherited from her mother.

"Excellent," she said out loud, but to no one in particular.

"Celede, I have already seen you eat more blackberries than the rest of us could eat in a week, and I'm sure you've eaten even more behind my back," Elrohir said warningly.

"And you are wearing a dress. Remember the last time you were up in a tree with your two brothers standing at the base of it?" Elladan teased.

"Well, this time, I don't plan on you two just standing at the bottom of the tree," Celede replied, "I propose a friendly competition. Whomever can pick the largest apple first wins."

"And what shall the winner of this friendly contest receive?" Elrohir asked innocently.

"Why, the apple of course!" Celede exclaimed. Elrohir frowned, while Elladan burst out laughing at Celede's contrasting excitement.

"I will even give you a headstart," Celede said, already searching the upper branches of the tree for the largest apple. She began to count backwards.

"10…9…8…"

"Celede, this is pointless. I don't even want an apple," Elrohir said. Celede promptly ignored him and continued counting down.

"5…4…3…"

"Come along, Elrohir," Elladan said, walking towards the trunk of the tree, "If you don't want to join in, your reward shall be the glory of losing."

"2…"

Elladan grinned, put his half-eaten apple into his mouth, and jumped straight up into the tree. No other race on Middle Earth had the grace or extreme capabilities of the Elves. Elladan's jump was unnaturally high, carrying him up into the first of the branches of the apple tree. From there, he began a sort of gymnastics act, swinging himself over and around and between boughs as he climbed steadily to the top, all the while holding his apple in his mouth.

"1…" Celede called before racing past a bemused Elrohir. She took a running jump and soared through the air, landing on top of the lowest branch of the apple tree.

"I don't even like apples," Elrohir complained as he too ran and jumped up into the tree. He didn't put as much energy into his leap however, and so he was forced to take a sideways leap off of the trunk of the apple tree in order to grab the nearest branch and swing himself up towards the next one.

Even though Elladan had started before the other two, Celede quickly caught up to him. She had been searching for the best apple and the best path to get to that apple in those ten seconds she had given her brothers, whereas Elladan had simply begun climbing, and therefore Celede already had a better idea of the path she could take to the top of the tree. Elrohir followed Celede's ascent, and soon caught up to Elladan as well. The three Elves scaled the tree quickly, barely ever pausing to catch their breath or decide which branch to jump to next. Their movements were quick and graceful, and the leaves of the apple tree barely rustled as the Elves flew by. Only when Celede was surrounded by apples did she stop on a branch to search for the largest of the apples surrounding her. Elrohir jumped to a branch above her to begin his search, while Elladan stopped on a branch just below her.

All at once, Celede spied the largest apple. It was enormous, nearly twice as big as the apple Elladan was continuing to devour as he scanned the canopy of the apple tree with his eyes. Celede watched her apple hang precariously down from the tip of a neighboring branch, its weight causing the branch to sag downwards. Quickly, Celede jumped to that branch, jostling it only slightly, but her movement was enough to catch Elrohir's attention. Their eyes met before Elrohir looked away, following the length of the branch. His eyes widened as he too noticed the apple. Realizing Elrohir had seen the apple too, Celede began running along the branch, nimbly placing one foot directly in front of the other as she balanced on the branch holding the apple.

Nearing the end, Celede crouched down to pick it, her fingers outstretched, when Elrohir's body came careening down from the branch above her. He did not land on the tree branch. Instead, he fell right beside the apple and grabbed it as he flew by. Celede watched in annoyance and then dawning horror as Elrohir continued to fall towards the ground, unable to grab onto another part of the tree to catch himself because he had jumped too far outwards and away from the tree. Celede could only watch helplessly as her brother flailed his arms, missing branch after branch as he crashed towards the earth.

Suddenly a hand shot out and grabbed Elrohir's flailing hand as he plunged towards the ground. Elrohir was immediately swung inward towards the tree, where he reflexively hit the nearest bough with his feet and pushed back off to avoid slamming into it. Soon he was simply hanging from Elladan's hand. Elladan was straddled atop a large branch of the lower part of the tree, clutching it with his legs and the arm not supporting Elrohir. In his hasty descent, Elladan had dropped his apple, and he looked none too pleased about it

"You orc-brained son of Sauron," Elladan gasped angrily, "Why is it that you are always trying for glory and I'm always the one saving your sorry hide?"

"Oh ho, you think you are doing the saving, brother," Elrohir smirked, "But on the contrary, you do not realize that I am perfectly capable of winning these small competitions without your help. I really don't depend on you for your daring rescues, though I do thank you for always being there to make my wins easier to accomplish."

Elladan made an irritated noise. Then he shot Elrohir a look of indifference. Elrohir's eyes widened in sudden understanding.

"Wait, Elladan-"

Elladan let go of his brother and simply watched Elrohir continue to fall with a cry to the ground.

As the two brothers had been conversing, Celede had begun climbing back down the tree. She quickened her pace when she heard Elrohir begin to yell again, surprised that he was continuing his fall to the ground. She soon caught up with Elladan making his own descent down to the tree and was again surprised that Elladan was completely ignoring Elrohir's cries. His movements were stiff and angry as he jumped from branch to branch down to the ground. Meanwhile, Elrohir landed with a thump and Celede winced. Elladan didn't even bat an eye. He loved his twin brother more than anything, but it always hurt him when Elrohir waved off his rescues, and, as it sometimes felt to Elladan, himself, in order to keep up his conceited image of his own ego.

But Elladan was not one for grudges, especially after he jumped out of the tree to see Elrohir limping painfully away from the imprint his landing had left in the ground. Celede jumped down beside Elladan.

"Are you alright?" Celede asked, turning to look in her brother's eyes. She had seen him catch Elrohir in the tree, and she knew Elladan would not have dropped Elrohir after he caught him unless he meant to. That meant Elladan was angry with Elrohir, and she had a pretty good understanding of why.

"He can be an obnoxious twit sometimes, but we both know Elrohir is just teasing. He cares about us as much as we care about him; he only likes hide his pride behind jests. And I don't really think he has much of an ego either. It's all just for show," Celede said softly, putting her hand on Elladan's shoulder. Elladan was startled by Celede's words, which were a response to the thoughts he had just been thinking a few moments ago, whether she meant to or not. Out of all of Galadriel's grandchildren, Celede could come closest to reading the minds of others. She could also talk to people's minds like Galadriel could on occasion, but only if she was really concentrating. Talking that way also exhausted her quite quickly, so she only did so when absolutely necessary. When Arwen learned of Celede's skills in mind talking, she had taught Celede that it was easier to communicate with people in dreams, since people's minds were more open to intrusion in their sleep.

In conversing and using magic with nature, Arwen and Celede also came out on top. Elrohir and Elladan could summon elements like wind and water just as well, but the effort was more taxing for them than their sisters. The twin brothers preferred open fighting as opposed to mind games and magic however, so it did not bother them that their sisters were more adept in those fields.

Elladan sighed at his sister, contemplating her words and surprised at her wisdom. He, like the rest of his family, had always considered Celede as the baby in the family. Perhaps he should start treating her more like the young woman she had become rather than like a child.

Celede's lips tipped up at the vibe she must have been feeling from Elladan, but a sudden shadow seemed to cross her face and her hint of a smile faded into a frown. Her gaze fell on Elrohir continuing to limp by himself out of the clearing and down the path towards home.

"Why don't we go help him?" Celede said quietly. She began to walk towards Elrohir, but Elladan remained frozen to the spot, contemplating the smile he had almost gotten out of Celede. She was so close to smiling that time; he was sure that one more nudge would break the solemness she had been carrying for so long. Shrugging himself out of his thoughts, Elrohir followed Celede to walk on the other side of Elrohir.

"There was no need to drop me, Elladan," Elrohir said stiffly, though he did not refuse the shoulder Elladan offered him to lean upon. "I mean really, that was just unkind."

Elladan shrugged his shoulder, causing Elrohir to stumble and wince.

"You made me drop my apple," Elladan said simply.

Elrohir's cry of indignation quickly turned into a gasp of pain.

"Ow…everything hurts, Elladan. Really, am I less important to you than an apple?" The indignation he placed on his last word was contradicted by the smirk on his face. "And besides, you almost bruised _this_."

Elrohir stopped, forcing Elladan and Celede to stop as well. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the large apple he had fallen out of the tree for, which he proceeded to hand to Celede. Then he took his hand off of Elrohir's shoulder and reached into his other pocket, which also had a large bulge in it.

"I picked one for you too, silly," Elrohir said, pulling out another apple almost as large as Celede's. "Well, actually, I thought it might have been the biggest at first. You know, to win the competition. That was before I saw the one Celede was-"

"Thank you, Elrohir, for thinking of me," Elladan cut in, snatching the apple away and taking a large, loud bite. Celede rolled her eyes and bit into her own apple. Elladan was right: the apple was more delicious than any she had ever tasted.

No sooner had the trio begun to walk forward again when an Elf came riding up to them on a rust-colored horse.

"Sweet Vala, did my father send you?" Elrohir cried in relief. "I was just beginning to think I could not possibly walk all the way back home with these two Elves chomping away. I can hear myself going deaf, never mind my injured ankle."

The messenger swiftly dismounted and bowed his head solemnly, ignoring Elrohir's weak attempts at humor.

"My lords Elrohir and Elladan, my lady Celede. Lord Elrond wishes you back immediately to greet two visitors approaching Rivendell as we speak. They will be arriving shortly, and he bids you make haste to arrive before they do."

Celede bit her tongue at the messenger's formality, holding back a sarcastic remark that would have been extremely impolite, especially since the messenger was taking his conversation with the royal family so seriously. Elrohir seemed to have the same reaction, but he responded with the same formal courtesy the messenger was using.

"I thank you for telling us, and I ask that I may ride your steed back to Rivendell, as I have recently injured my leg, and as such, would not be able to arrive back in Rivendell at any reasonable time on foot."

"Of course my lord," the messenger said, stepping further away from his horse and presenting it to Elrohir with another bow.

"Elrohir, take Celede with you as well," Elladan piped up, "She is wearing a dress and will not be able to run back as fast as I will be able to after your departure."

Celede frowned at this but saw the truth in her brother's words. She went over to the horse and quickly mounted it sidesaddle to accommodate her dress. After helping Elrohir settle himself in front of her, she wrapped her arms around her brother's waist as he whisperered instructions to the horse. The horse turned around on the narrow path with a whinny and began to canter as fast as it could down the path. As Elladan and the messenger disappeared from sight, Celede buried her head in her older brother's back to shield herself from the wind. She wondered who these mysterious visitors to Rivendell could be and why it was so important to her father for them to be there to meet them.

ooOOoo

Celede and Elrohir raced over the bridge and through the gates of Rivendell just as the sun was beginning to set below the mountains surrounding the valley. As Celede dismounted and helped her brother stagger off the horse, she was surprised to see an Elf run over from the stables to take their horse. Usually she and her siblings took care of their horses themselves, rather than having other Elves serve them in such a way. Elrohir seemed surprised too, and Celede helped him limp up the steps into their domicile. His ankle seemed to be bothering him more now, and he leaned more of his weight on Celede with every step they took. They had crossed through the hallway and had begun hobbling up the stairs to their rooms when Elrohir froze suddenly and hastily took his arm off of Celede's shoulders.

"Elrohir, what-" she started, then stopped abruptly at the sight of Lord Elrond standing with his arms crossed at the top of the stairs. Both of them knew that their father frowned upon the silly antics and competitions they frequently played with each other, especially if they hurt themselves doing it. He hadn't cared much before, but times were changing. Elladan and Elrohir had fought for years with the Rangers of the North against many dangers, including enemies that sought to destroy the line of Isildur, but their skirmishes were growing more desperate as the orcs were growing stronger. Elrond had received news only a short time ago that Arathorn, son of Arador had been slain by orcs. Arathorn had been the leader of the Rangers, and so his death had been a harsh blow against the entire group. Because the battles were becoming more frequent and more dangerous, Elrond wished to keep his sons as fit and healthy as possible to ensure as best he could that they would not be overtaken by the orcs they fought. This meant that small injuries due to fun skirmishes with each other were not tolerated anymore.

"Are you injured, Elrohir?" Elrond asked, although his tone told his children that he already knew the answer.

"No, Father," Elrohir said. Celede glanced at him, but he was determinedly facing his father's gaze, refusing to back down. Elrond raised an eyebrow, but Elrohir refused to tell him the truth. Elrohir valued his father's respect more than his own life, and he didn't want his father to know he had been injured falling out of an apple tree. He also wanted to keep Elladan from getting into trouble as well. Celede made a note to tell Elladan that Elrohir placed his brother's reputation above his own.

"Although I am rather dirty," Elrohir finally said, "And our visitors seem to be important, at least according to the messenger you sent, so I think I shall go change into nicer, cleaner clothing."

Elrond moved to the side of the stairs, nodding, and motioned for Elrohir to continue walking up the stairs to his room. Celede watched anxiously and started to move to help Elrohir, but he waved her away.

"I'm fine, Celede," he said softly. Then he lifted his injured ankle onto the next step. His leg shook as he put weight on it and the color left his face, but Elrohir stoically began walking up the stairs. He was careful not to favor his good leg over his injured one, although Celede could see the tremors in his body that came every time he stepped on his hurt ankle. Elrond narrowed his eyes, and Celede was sure that Elrohir was not fooling anyone, but Elrohir continued to walk up the stairs. When he finally reached the landing, he faced his father and tried to smile, but all that he could manage was a pained grimace.

"See, Father? I'm fine," he said weakly. As he began to walk to his rooms, Celede called to her father to draw his attention away from Elrohir. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Elrohir immediately start limping and eventually hopping on his good leg down the landing to his bedroom once Elrond was not looking at him.

"Tell me, Father, whose company are we to be expecting?" Celede asked innocently as she climbed the stairs to meet her father.

"Do you remember the news we received not long ago, about the death of Arathorn?" Elrond asked her.

"Of course I do, Father. Elladan and Elrohir are very close to the Men of the North. The news was greatly disturbing to them."

"I have recently received word from Arathorn's wife, Gilraen. She is frightened for the life of her only son, Aragorn, and I have agreed to meet with her to find a place for her son to have protection and guidance. I have foreseen that this child will save the world of Men, and therefore his safety is of utmost importance."

"What? You are bringing a Man here? For how long? He isn't staying, is he, Father? He cannot possibly live here. Rivendell is a dwelling for Elves. _Elves. _Not Men. This Aragorn cannot stay here," Celede exclaimed, her voice rising in outrage. Elrond was taken aback by her reaction.

"Calm yourself, Celede. There is no need for this outburst. I am not planning on raising Aragorn here, in our household, but perhaps he can reside somewhere in Rivendell, yes. I simply think that I can help Gilraen give Aragorn the skills he needs to fulfill his destiny. And we have welcomed Men into Rivendell before. This is nothing new," Elrond said, reaching out to touch Celede's arm. She flinched away from him, her eyes blazing.

"We've welcomed Men before for a night or two, at festivals or meetings and such. But now you are thinking of allowing a Man to live here, in this sanctuary for the Elvish people of Middle Earth. Are you out of your mind, Father? We are Elves, Father. We should not associate ourselves with Men. They cannot be trusted."

"Celede, this is a child-"

"Children grow up, and this boy will grow into a man, and Men are corrupt and weak and vile."

"Celede, where is this coming from? Your brothers have spent hundreds of years fighting for Men, fighting alongside Men, and now Men are struggling to survive. You know that Middle Earth cannot survive without them. And who are you to condemn them?"

"I know them. They are power hungry, mindless beings. Sauron could corrupt them in an instant."

"Sauron's orcs are Elves who have been corrupted," Elrond said quietly. Celede slapped the banister in frustration.

"That's different, Father. You know that is different."

"Really? How so?"

"That was a long time ago. We've learned, we've changed-"

"And so I believe Man can too."

Celede closed her eyes. Haunted memories returned to her of that night, the night she had trusted Man with all her heart and he had betrayed her. Elrond continued to speak.

"You are right, Celede, that Men are easily corrupted by power. That is one of my reasons for raising Aragorn here among our people, away from the influence of other Men. Celede," Elrond placed his hand over hers on the banister. He didn't continue until Celede reluctantly met his gaze.

"You can help change the world of Men, Celede. Teach Aragorn to be wary of power. Teach him to see corruption for what it is and to fight against it. Teach him to be kind and caring. Make him a Man fit to be king. We can help the world of Men succeed by ensuring that the King of Men will succeed."

Celede was silent for a moment, surprised at the angry tears forming in her eyes and the knot in her throat.

"I do not know if it can be done, Father. I have seen Men do such terrible things," she choked out. She closed her eyes, took a moment to compose herself.

"But I will do as you ask. I will treat him well while he lives in Rivendell, and I will teach him that power is an awful gift that should never be treated lightly. And perhaps, just this once, I will give hope to mankind."

Celede bit her lip at these words. She knew that she was basing all of her assumptions of Men off of one individual, and an evil, deceitful one at that. She knew she needed to be more open minded like her father, but even though she had told her father she would obey him, Celede promised herself that her actions towards this boy would depend on his actions towards her once she actually met him.

Elrond embraced his daughter, wondering at how a light conversation had become so emotionally charged to Celede.

Celede returned his embrace, although she took no comfort from it. Instead, she simply wished to stop her father from asking questions she didn't want to answer.

"Perhaps you should check on Elrohir," Celede whispered once they separated.

Elrond's lips twitched upwards. "When will he learn that I'm not as shortsighted as he hopes I am? After all, I am several thousand years old." Elrond raised his voice as he spoke so Elrohir could hear his last sentence.

At that moment, Elrohir reappeared in the hallway, dressed in his traditional Ranger garb. He had chosen his attire quite well, since his Ranger outfit included heavyset boots. Celede could just make out the edges of the two splints he had wrapped around each side of his ankle, but she was impressed at how well he had managed to hide his injury. The boots themselves were stiff, so Elrohir's limp became even less noticeable. In addition, of course, Ranger attire was quite fitting to welcome the visiting Dúnedain themselves.

As Elrohir and Elrond began to talk, Celede slipped away from them. Elladan hadn't arrived yet, so she figured there was no need to be at the front gates just yet. A walk in the courtyard would do her good, and perhaps she could avoid meeting the visitors for just a little longer.

Elrond had erected a fountain in the center of the courtyard after Celebrian had departed, where a life-size statue of Celebrian stood in the water. Her hair cascaded down over her shoulders as her face stared up into the sky. Water trickled down from the corners of her eyes, as if the statue of Celebrian was crying out her sorrows. One hand clasped a water jug, tilted so water also poured out of it, while her other hand was raised gracefully outwards, as if reaching out to something in the distance. Even though the statue was weeping, Celede always took courage from it. Her mother's statue was facing the Grey Havens, where Celebrian had left her family for Valinor. This was where her mother's statue was reaching for, the sea where Celebrian had gone. To Celede, her mother's statue connected Rivendell to Valinor, and therefore connected Celede to her mother.

But Celede's favorite part of her mother's statue was her face. Although tears streamed from her eyes, Celebrian's expression in the stone was uplifting, her lips curved into a slight smile. She was not happy, but she was not sad either; instead, the statue of Celebrian could only be described as hopeful, and hope was something Celede desperately needed at times like this.

"You weren't there to guide me, Mother, when I made a mistake," Celede said to the statue, "And now I fear that that mistake has changed me forever. I know you would give this boy, this Aragorn, a chance to prove himself, and I want to do so as well more than anything, but I do not know if I can. I am so biased, Mother, because of _him_, and I do not want to be. I don't know what to do. I wish you were here to help me, Mother."

By now, Celede's eyes had filled with tears, and when she closed them, water spilled from her eyes just as it did her mother's statue.

"Are you crying, my lady?"

Celede opened her eyes and turned away from the statue. A little boy stood in the entrance to the courtyard. His bright blue eyes watched her worriedly from under a black tuft of hair. She had been expecting a boy at least six years of age, and so she was surprised at how young the boy really was, only a few years old. When she turned around to face him, the boy darted around the stone pillar at the entrance to the courtyard so only his eyes were watching her from around the stone.

"I miss my mother," Celede said simply.

The little boy simply stared at her. It took Celede a moment to realize that the boy, who could only be Aragorn, did not speak Elvish. Celede utilized the lessons her father had drilled into her head long ago, grateful for once that he had forced her to learn the language of Men.

"I miss my mother," Celede said in English

"Oh," said Aragorn, who stepped back into the courtyard.

"I know how that feels," he said sadly, "because my father isn't coming back to see me. Mother says he isn't coming back to see her either. Or anyone at all. Is your mother the same way?"

"My mother sailed over the sea, so I will not get to see her for a very long time," Celede replied. She felt bad for little boy and criticized herself for being so upset about her mother. Celebrian was not dead, like Aragorn's father, meaning Celede would be able to see her again in this world, whereas Aragorn could only meet his father again in death.

"Maybe you can see her again sometime," Aragorn said brightly, his face lightening, "You are too pretty to be crying. Here, I can make you feel better."

Aragorn ran around the fountain and disappeared into the maze of vines and bushes behind it. As Celede walked around the fountain to retrieve him, he came running back with a white rose in his hand.

"Here, I saw this earlier, and now I picked it for you, so you won't feel sad anymore," he said, suddenly shy as he held the flower out to her. "It matches your dress."

Celede glanced down at herself after taking the rose from Aragorn. She was still wearing the white dress that she had been wearing to pick fruit earlier that day. She grimaced at herself for not changing into something cleaner because berry juice and dirt had soiled the white color of the dress.

"Celede? Father is looking for you!" Elrohir's voice soared into the courtyard before he himself entered. Aragorn hid behind Celede, peeping out just as he had around the stone pillar when Celede had first met him. Elrohir spoke in English, and Celede realized that Elrohir had probably talked to Gilraen already and was now just speaking English out of habit. That, or he subtly wanted to remind Celede she had to speak English as well.

"Oh good, you're here. I won't have to search up trees or anything. And you have the boy! Excellent. I was supposed to find him as well."

"I'm not a boy!" Aragorn shouted before darting back behind Celede.

"I'm a man, or a big boy, at least," he amended quietly behind Celede, unaware that Elrohir could hear him. Elrohir broke into a wide smile, and Celede felt herself doing the same. Her lips turned up as they had done before, but this time, she didn't stop them there. She didn't think of the incident that had stopped her before. That was in the past, and this was now, and now Celede wanted to smile. And once Celede started smiling, she didn't want to stop. Elrohir watched her in shock, then broke into a huge grin of his own. He walked over to her, smiling broadly as she smiled back, and hugged her to him. Aragorn yelped at his cover being blown. But then he sensed that something monumental had just happened, something wonderful, although he couldn't fathom what that could be. Aragorn simply found himself smiling up at the pair of beautiful beings he had found in the courtyard, suddenly uncaring of being out in the open.

"Elrohir, what is taking you so long? Elrohir!" another voice called as another person entered the courtyard.

Elladan froze at the sight of his sister smiling at him over Elrohir's shoulder.

"Celede? Celede, you're, you're-"

"She's smiling, Elladan," Elrohir said happily, letting go of Celede to face his brother.

"That's-That's-" Elladan stuttered.

"HEY!" a small voice suddenly called. The Elves all turned to face Aragorn, who paled at suddenly becoming the focus of attention. He gulped.

"There's two of you!" he suddenly cried in awe. He pointed at Elrohir, almost accusingly.

"You've got a live shadow, sir! I only have a normal shadow, but yours is alive! Wow, that's cool! How did you get one? I would love a shadow like that!" Aragorn said happily.

Elrohir and Elladan exchanged bemused looks.

"Well…uh…" they both said at the same time. Aragorn's eyes could not have opened wider in excitement. He was nearly bouncing up and down in excitement.

"The only difference is that you have pointy ears," Aragorn said matter-of-factly, now pointing at Elladan.

"Wait, no, you have pointy ears too!" he rephrased, now pointing at Elrohir. He turned to examine Celede. "And you! You have pointy ears too!" He paused.

"Do I have pointy ears?" Aragorn continued worriedly, feeling the tips of his own ears, which were round as could be, "Or is that what happens when you get a live shadow?"

Elladan and Elrohir were both staring at Aragorn as if he had two heads. The little boy had been talking and coming to conclusions at a breakneck speed, and now that he'd finally stopped, the twins didn't know how to react.

And then they heard it. They heard the sound of bells and birds and happiness and joy ringing into the air. It was a sound they had not heard for more than one hundred years, but had longed to hear every day of every minute of every one of those years. Elladan and Elrohir turned in astonishment to Celede, who was looking at Aragorn, her mouth open and smiling. The sound was coming from her. Celede was laughing. Elladan and Elrohir clasped each other's arms in suppressed excitement, reveling in the sound of their sister's laugh. They heard footsteps running towards the courtyard, but they didn't bother to find out who was coming. They were both completely entranced by their sister's laugh. Celede laughed for a long time. She laughed at Aragorn, then started laughing at the sheer joy of being able to laugh again. The barriers that had had always kept her from doing so were gone, ripped away and destroyed by Aragorn. When Celede finally stopped laughing, although she was still grinning at Aragorn, the boy looked up at her and smiled back happily.

"You have a pretty laugh," was all he said.

ooOOoo

"My condolences, Gilraen, to the death of Arathorn," Elrond said after they had formally greeted each other. Elladan had raced into Rivendell with his messenger companion only moments before Gilraen and Aragorn had appeared. He had had just enough time to catch his breath while Gilraen entered and greeted them to be able to greet her with a steady voice. As soon as the pair had entered, Aragorn had run off, ignoring his mother's calls for him to come back. She had then shaken her head in loving irritation and come to greet them.

"I know my sons viewed Arathorn as a close friend and brave warrior. His passing is felt in Rivendell," Elrond continued as he waved his hand towards Elrohir and Elladan, who stood beside him. They reiterated this sentiment to Gilraen with kind words.

"Thank you, Lord Elrond," Gilraen replied, "and thank you for taking Aragorn into your family."

"I will provide Aragorn with the training to learn the skills of fighting and knowledge that he will need to succeed as king of Gondor, and I will provide you both with housing," Elrond replied.

"What? That is not enough, my lord," Gilraen said firmly. "My son needs a father to guide him. He needs a family to live with, not just me. I will live where you are generous enough to house me, or outside of Rivendell even, if you will take Aragorn in as your own. He must have more than I can provide if he is to fulfill his destiny."

"I cannot, Lady Gilraen," Elrond said quietly. "My daughter is troubled by the presence of Men, and I will not hurt her more by allowing a Man to become a part of this family."

"But Aragorn is a child. He has done nothing wrong. My lord, he is the last remaining heir to the throne of Gondor. You must reconsider. He needs to prepared to carry out his destiny, and he cannot do that without a father." Gilraen's eyes shone with tears, but her voice was firm and did not quaver in the slightest.

"I am sorry, Lady Gilraen, but my decision is final. In some aspects, my daughter's irrationality is true. Aragorn is descended from Isildur, who did not destroy Sauron's Ring of Fire when he could, and now forces the rest of Middle Earth to prepare for a war in which many will die," Elrond said bitterly.

Gilraen was taken aback. "How can you say that, my lord? You are among the wisest of the beings that walk Middle Earth. Surely you of all people must understand that a descendant cannot be held responsible for the crimes of his ancestor? Your daughter is very important to you, of course, but is it simply on her whim that you would allow the world of Men to be destroyed?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Gilraen regretted them. Elrond winced at her words and drew back.

"You go too far, Lady of the Dúnedain," Elrond said, his voice cold but his eyes betraying his pain at her words.

Elladan and Elrohir glanced at each other as a solemn silence settled over the group.

"I see young Aragorn has disappeared," Elrohir finally spoke into the silence, "and Celede should be here by now. I will go find them, shall I?"

Elrond and Gilraen barely noticed him as the both stared each other down. Elrohir shrugged and left. Elladan remained, surprised at Gilraen's strength. There were very few who could stand up to Elrond like she was currently doing. He marveled at the pair for a short while before murmuring that he would join Elrohir, and then proceeded to leave the two alone at the entrance of Rivendell.

"You would do anything for your son," Elrond finally spoke, "and I would do anything for my children as well. I hope you will keep that in mind when you speak to me."

"Please, let me talk to your daughter," Gilraen pleaded, "I cannot do anything against your will, but perhaps I can persuade your daughter to accept at least Aragorn into her family."

Elrond sighed. "I will allow that as long as I am there when you talk to her. You are a very intimidating person, my lady."

Gilraen smiled. "I am only a mother doing what is best for her child."

Elrond was about to respond when he heard great peals of laughter ringing out from the courtyard. Elrond listened with surprise. The laughter was distinctly feminine. _Could it be? Celede?_

"My lord? What is it?" Gilraen asked. Elrond ignored her as he began to run to the courtyard, his robes sweeping the ground regally behind him.

"My lord?" Gilraen asked again in surprise, hastily lifting up her skirts to run after Elrond. She followed him through the open passageways of the house, marveling at the architecture's grace and beauty. Rivendell was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Arathorn had told her about it long ago, about the majestic valley and its people, the fairest of all in Middle Earth. She bit her cheek at the thought of Arathorn. He had told her in his last morning alive to seek out the help of Lord Elrond of Rivendell should anything happen to him. Then he had kissed her, as he always did every morning, and left to track down a group of orcs. Gilraen never saw him again. She was told he was killed by an orc arrow that struck him through his eye, and therefore her parents had refused to let her see him. She had fled in blind grief with many other people of her village, but then snuck away from the contingent to take Aragorn to Rivendell, just as Arathorn had told her to do. Gilraen had expected help from the Lord of Rivendell, but instead was told directly by Elrond that he would not raise her son.

The laughter continued to ring clearly through the open arches of the passageways they ran through, beautiful and lilting and distinctly Elvish. Gilraen did not understand why this laughter had so dramatically changed Elrond, but she hoped that the change in him might allow her to push for her son to live here. Even when the laughter died away, Elrond still ran, seeming to know exactly where the laughter had come from. He slowed as they entered a courtyard. She stared at the fountain in the center of the courtyard, where the statue of a beautiful Elvish maiden cried out to the stars. Forcing her eyes away from the entrancing statue, Gilraen turned her gaze back to Elrond, who had met up with three other Elves on the opposite side of the courtyard, two of which she recognized as Elrohir and Elladan. Her son was among them, to her relief, and he seemed to be entertaining them.

Elrond's twin sons, so alike to Elrond and each other, were staring at the third elf, a maiden with shimmering light gold, almost silver colored hair, who was extremely beautiful even in the off-white dress she was wearing. She was smiling at Aragorn, and he was smiling back. As Gilraen stared at the maiden, who had yet to notice her or Lord Elrond, she noticed that the maiden shared similar features to the fountain statue. Her eyes and nose were shaped the same, and the way she smiled resembled the gentle smile of the maiden in fountain. Looking closer, however, Gilraen noticed that the shape of the Elf maiden's face and the way she held herself were nearly identical to Lord Elrond's.

Biting back her questions, Gilraen came closer to the group. Aragorn saw her and ran to her. She picked him up and kissed him on the forehead. Only after Arathorn had died did Gilraen truly notice how alike Aragorn looked to his father. Arathorn had used to joke that Aragorn should have been a girl because his gentle features resembled Gilraen's so much, and Gilraen had always countered that a little girl could be next. Now all Gilraen had to remember those days in the past was Aragorn, the little boy who was one day destined to be king. If he could survive the turmoil ahead, Gilraen thought to herself bitterly.

"I think, Father, that young Aragorn can stay," one of the twin elves said to Elrond, although Gilraen could not tell which one.

Elrond looked questioningly at the young woman, who nodded her head in agreement, still smiling. Gilraen realized that the young woman must have been the daughter Elrond was so protective about. She guessed that Elrond's wife must therefore be the woman whose statue stood in the courtyard, and Gilraen wondered what had happened to her. _It cannot have been good, since Elrond is as protective with his children as I am with mine, and the fountain statue of his lady is weeping._

Smiling broadly, Elrond walked over to Gilraen and Aragorn.

"Aragorn, son of Arathorn," he began. Aragorn squirmed in Gilraen's arms upon hearing his formal title, which his mother only used when she was reprimanding him.

"Thank you," Elrond said. Aragorn perked up in surprise. He was too young to know of Elrond's high status as one of the reigning Elf lords. All he knew was that a fatherly man with pointy ears and without a live shadow was thanking him for something, although he did not know what.

"You made my daughter laugh again. She has not laughed, nor even smiled, in a very, very long time." Elrond said quietly. Aragorn was shocked to see tears in the man's eyes.

"I just wanted her to stop crying," said Aragorn, "Are you going to cry too, sir? Do you want me to make you feel better too?"

"Aragorn!" said Gilraen, but Elrond held up his hand to let her know everything was fine.

He then reached out and took Aragorn from Gilraen's arms. Elrond held Aragorn high above him and laughed as he spun the little boy around in a circle. Aragorn giggled. That was something his father had done to him all the time before he died.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Elrond said as he spun Aragorn around again and again. Then he slowed to a stop, robes swishing, and whispered gently to Aragorn.

"I know you miss your father," he began, "and I can never even try to replace him, but maybe I can try to fill the emptiness you must be feeling." He was talking to Aragorn, but looking at Gilraen now.

"How would you like to live here, with my children and me? Would you like that?" Elrond asked.

"You mean I can live here? With the pretty lady and that man and his living shadow?" Aragorn asked, his eyes wide with excitement

Elrond raised his eyebrows in confusion at his children. Elrohir shrugged as if to say, _just go with it. I will explain later. _

"Yes. If you would like to," Elrond replied, looking back at Aragorn.

"Can Momma stay here too?"

"If you would like her too."

"Oh yes. I would like that very much." Aragorn turned to Celede with a grin. She smiled back, surprised at how easily smiling now came to her. She put the rose she still held up to her face and took a deep breath to show Aragorn how much she appreciated it. Aragorn smiled even more. "We can all be a happy family."

_Father, _Celede spoke into Elrond's mind. _I'm sorry I was so angry before. I'm not anymore. I truly believe now what I said only halfheartedly earlier. I believe there is hope for mankind._

Elrond said nothing at first, but a smile touched his lips at Celede's words. _That gives me an idea._

"Aragorn, if you are going to be part of this family, you are going to need an Elvish name. You see, the reason we have pointy ears is because we are not human, like you are. We are Elves. As you live here, we will teach you the Elvish language. For now, I will start by teaching you one word. We shall call you _Estel. _That is our word for hope. You have given me hope just now, for making my daughter smile and laugh, and you will give hope to-"

"Thank you, my lord," Gilraen cut in, "But may I have a word with you, in private?"

"Certainly," Elrond said, hiding his surprise that she had just interrupted him, especially after he had agreed to do what she had been asking for in the first place. He set Aragorn, now Estel, down. Estel ran over to Celede, who picked him up and started marveling again at the rose he had given her, talking gently to him. Elrond and Gilraen walked to the other end of the courtyard just as Celede had started explaining to Estel why Elladan and Elrohir looked alike.

When Gilraen had walked out of earshot of Aragorn, she turned around and faced Elrond.

"Thank you, my lord, for taking Aragorn in as your son," she began, "and I am even more grateful for the new name you have given him. Not only is it fitting, but it may also protect him from enemies of Isildur's heir, of which we both know there are many. Arathorn and his father before him were killed because the enemy learned of their identities, and I fear that if anyone else learns of Aragorn's true lineage besides the people in this courtyard, Aragorn will be placed in mortal danger. He is the last of Elendil's line, so, needless to say, it is essential that he lives. Therefore I ask that we keep his lineage a complete secret, even from himself, in order to give him his best chance of surviving."

Elrond was silent, pondering Gilraen's words.

"Please," she begged him when he continued to say nothing.

Finally, he spoke. "I agree that his lineage must be kept in the utmost secrecy, but I do not agree that he should also be raised unaware of his lineage as well. However, you are his mother, and while I shall raise him as my own, I will also abide by your request, at least for now. But I warn you that Estel must be told, he shall be told, and he shall learn of his lineage sooner rather than later."

Gilraen sighed in relief. Elrond's answer was more than she had hoped for. _Thank you, Arathorn, my love, for guiding me even when we have been forced apart._

And so Aragorn, son of Arathorn, renamed Estel of Rivendell, became a third son for Elrond and a third brother for Celede. But while Estel taught Celede to love and laugh again as she had before, Celede still stood by the promise she had made to herself that traumatic night long ago. She learned to love Estel as family, but she continued to convince herself that she must never love another in the way that Celebrian had loved Elrond or that Gilraen had loved Arathorn.

_**And...to be continued :-)**_

_**I love reviews! They encourage me to keep writing! (*hint hint, wink wink, nudge nudge*)  
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	5. An Unexpected Reunion

_**A/N: My apologies for taking SO long. I promise I haven't forgotten this story! **_

_**Disclaimer: Same as last time. Fancy that. I still do not own or claim to own any of Tolkien's work!  
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A gentle wind whistled through the trees surrounding the archery field and brushed Celede's long blonde hair back away from her face. Her arrow nocked and her bow drawn, Celede stood at the edge of the archery field and aimed for the target across from her. She focused slightly off the center of the target to compensate for the wind and released the string. Her arrow cut through the air to land just above the center of the target, and she huffed in annoyance, blowing stray hairs out of her face. She had overcompensated that time.

"Better luck next time, sister," Elrohir said with a smirk as he nocked an arrow and swiftly pulled it to his cheek in one swift motion. Still smirking, and with far less hesitation than Celede, he released the arrow. It slammed into the center of the target, and Elrohir sighed in satisfaction. From beside her, Celede heard an irritated huff. Estel was standing over his bow, which he seemed to have thrown down, and was staring at the two arrows with his hands on hips and his brow furrowed.

"How can you always, always hit the target, Elrohir?" he said in exasperation, "Celede too. She was right on. I mean, she didn't hit the bulls-eye, but the arrow is directly above the center. _Directly. _And she shot that arrow while the wind was still blowing. How is that even possible?"

Celede smiled, resisting the urge to stick out her tongue at Elrohir. Instead, she turned away from her brother to talk to Estel.

"I've had many hundreds of years to practice," she said, remembering how Elrohir and Elladan had said the very same thing to her when she had been young and jealous of their skill. Estel seemed unconvinced.

"Come now, Estel, you are only ten years old. But you'll learn. It just takes time," she encouraged.

Estel sighed dejectedly and just nodded his head. He loved his foster family with all his heart, but it was at times like this that he wished he could have been taught and raised by more normal, less perfect beings.

Celede put her hand on his shoulder and shook him gently.

"Hey, you are being trained by the very best in Middle Earth. When you leave Rivendell to fight alongside other Men, I promise you they will be astounded by your skills."

"Do you really think so?" Estel asked quietly.

"Oh, I know so," Elrohir replied, "No pupil of mine becomes anything less than a master."

Celede rolled her eyes. She wished Elladan was with them, knowing he would have a witty response to Elrohir. But Elladan had gone to Mirkwood to answer summons from King Thranduil for any capable Elf willing to fight alongside the Elves of Mirkwood in a coming battle. Celede was still unsure of the details of this impending fight; she didn't even know who the Elves were fighting against. Messengers had been arriving constantly in Rivendell with different updates. At first, it had seemed that a three-way battle would break out between the Elves, Dwarves and Men over some treasure that had recently been conquered after a certain dragon had been slain near the Lonely Mountain. Smaug, Celede recalled, was the dragon's name.

Her father had not wanted to send either of his sons because he thought the battle would be nothing more than a pointless skirmish, and he needed them to continue to teach Estel. His twin sons disagreed. They persuaded Elrond to allow one of them to go, while the other could continue Estel's training and, although no one said it, stay safe in case the battle was worse than anticipated. This was, perhaps, a wise decision, since the latest news was that the Elves, Men, and Dwarves had formed an alliance against impending danger from nearby Goblins and Wargs who also sought the dragon's treasure. As the news came, Elrond called for more messengers to give him even faster updates on the situation. Knowing that her father was nervous, Celede also spent much of her time worrying. She worried mostly for Elladan, but found herself also thinking about the safety of a little person she had grown rather fond of, a hobbit named Bilbo Baggins, who had arrived in the company of thirteen other dwarves in Rivendell only months before King Thranduil issued his summons. She knew that Bilbo was at the center of the treasure predicament, although she hadn't been able to find out exactly what the little hobbit had done.

While Celede found the Dwarves to be rather distasteful, she very much enjoyed Bilbo's company, especially since he was a member of a race she had scarcely heard of before. Bilbo had entertained her with stories of his homeland, which he called the Shire. It sounded homely and quaint, and Bilbo was always quick to express his love for the Shire, and especially for his own little abode at a place called Bag End. Because of this, Celede was curious as to why Bilbo had agreed to join the dwarves in a quest for treasure. She had asked him once, and he had started rambling to her about the difference between a "Baggins" and a "Took". Completely lost, Celede had just nodded her head politely and made sure to talk about other things with Bilbo that made more sense to her. She had laughed at Bilbo's opinion of Mithrandir, whom she treated as a beloved uncle. Bilbo, however, seemed to think that Gandalf was quite a queer and eccentric old man who had forced him upon this journey against his will. When Celede told Mithrandir what Bilbo had said, Gandalf had laughed for a long time before saying mysteriously, "Yes, I can see why he would think that," and then started to laugh again.

Bilbo had only stayed in Rivendell for a short while, especially after Elrond had discovered more information in their map than the dwarves had seen before. Celede would miss Bilbo Baggins, but she was ultimately glad when the party finally left. While they had been guests in Rivendell, Gilraen had taken Estel away to live in a secluded part of the valley to ensure, as she always did, that no one would know of Estel's existence. Celede, of course, knew of Estel's lineage and kept this knowledge in utmost secrecy, although it pained her whenever Estel asked questions about who his family was or why he was living in Rivendell and she was forced to keep the truth hidden from him.

Another groan of frustration pulled Celede away from her thoughts of the past. She looked over to see Aragorn kick a rock in the ground angrily. Then she saw the cause of his irritation. An arrow had embedded itself in a tree several yards away from the targets.

She looked at Estel sympathetically, but he only glared at her. Then she heard the twang of another arrow being fired beside her. They all watched as this arrow soared gracefully through the air into the center of the target.

"Elrohir," Celede said angrily, "We all know you like to show off, but really? That was just unkind."

She turned to look at Elrohir, only to see that Elrohir's bow was propped against him on the ground. She blinked in surprise.

"Did you fire that?" Celede asked Elrohir in confusion.

Elrohir promptly ignored her, as he had already turned around and found the archer who had shot that arrow. Also turning around, Celede saw a figure step out of the woods and start walking towards them. He wore a forest green tunic and brown leggings and boots, and his bow was strung in his hand. As he stepped out of the shadows and into the archery field, the sunlight illuminated a familiar face, with bright blue eyes and long blonde hair braided in a way that emphasized his Elven ears. He looked just as Celede had remembered from the last time they had met, at the celebration for her hundredth birthday.

"Legolas!" Elrohir exclaimed, smiling broadly as he walked towards the Elf.

"I send my brother over to Mirkwood, and in return, I receive the Prince of Mirkwood himself. What a bargain," Elrohir grinned as he clasped Legolas's elbow in greeting. Celede found herself smiling as well as she led a curious Estel behind her to greet King Thranduil's son.

"Legolas, Thranduilion," she said, bowing her head in deference. His eyes widened ever so slightly as he took in her strange attire, for she was wearing her leggings and short skirt instead of a dress. With a curt nod, he turned back to Elrohir. Celede was surprised at his cold greeting; this was not how she had remembered Legolas. For some strange reason, she felt hurt by his greeting to her. She realized she had found herself hoping for more. Legolas did not even glance at Estel. He was entirely focused on Elrohir, and Celede realized with a jolt, his face wasn't cold; it was somber. _No, _Celede thought desperately, suddenly wishing Legolas wasn't here, _No, don't say anything. Don't tell us anything. Everything has to be alright. Elladan is fine. Please, let Elladan be fine._

Legolas's head flinched in her direction. She realized that she might have sent him her thoughts in her sudden panic and need for the words to be true. Even if Legolas had heard her, though, he still opened his mouth to speak.

"Elrohir, I bring grave news. I did not want you to hear it from a messenger, but know it gives me great pain to be the bearer of this news," Legolas began solemnly. Elrohir paled at his words.

"Elladan. Where's Elladan?" Celede asked out loud, frightened.

"The battle was far bloodier than we expected," Legolas said, "The Goblins were stronger than any of us thought. Elladan-" Legolas choked out the name. Elrohir shook him vigorously by the shoulders.

"Out with it, Legolas!" Elrohir cried, "Where is my brother?"

"He-he has been mortally injured by a goblin's arrow. I'm afraid-" Legolas's voice hitched again.

"I'm afraid he will not survive," he spoke barely inaudibly. Elrohir let go of Legolas and staggered backwards as if he had been physically struck.

"It was my fault. I wasn't fast enough, and I was stupid," Legolas continued, his breathing uneven with grief, "I didn't see the arrow coming at me until it was too late. But Elladan saw it, and he stopped it the only way he could. Before I knew what had happened, he had leaped in front of me and taken the arrow for himself."

"Elladan, no," Elrohir quavered. Celede grabbed his arm to support him, although she could feel her own knees buckling. She sank to the ground beside Elrohir, leaning her head against his leg. She felt numb, completely numb. Too shocked even to cry or do anything but lean against Elrohir. She looked up at Legolas, who was watching the two of them with eyes filled with tears.

"But he's still alive. If he is still clinging to this world, then he can still be saved," Celede pleaded, desperately clinging to hope.

"We are doing everything we can, but my father and his healers are not as skillful as yours," Legolas said, his voice full of anguish. There was a long pause, broken only by birds anxiously chirping to each other in the nearby trees.

"Father," Elrohir finally spoke, his voice stronger. He gently stepped away from Celede. She leaned on one of her arms, but her elbow shook. She felt herself suddenly being embraced by small arms, holding her upright but clinging to her as well. Estel. She had forgotten about him. She turned to hug him to her, letting his tears stain her blouse as Elrohir continued to speak, excitedly now.

"Father can help. Celede, Father can get there in time. We will not lose Elladan," Elrohir said fiercely. He turned to Legolas, "Have you told my Father yet?"

Legolas shook his head.

"I came to find you first. Elrohir," he said, grabbing Elrohir's arm, "Do not trust to hope. Elladan is fading quickly."

Elrohir threw Legolas away from him. Legolas flinched under Elrohir's glare.

"As long as my brother has breath left, as long as my brother's heart continues to beat, I will have hope that he can be saved," Elrohir said. He sprinted to his horse, leaving his bow and quiver forgotten in the grass, and mounted his steed without missing a beat. He then proceeded to gallop past them down the path to Rivendell. Legolas did not try to stop him.

"Celede," he finally said, turning to face her, "I'm so sorry."

"I will not forgive you, Legolas," Celede said, as gently as she could with her shaky voice, "Because you are not to blame for Elladan's injury. But it will be your fault if Elladan dies because you gave up hope already. If there is one thing that I have learned since we last met, it is that one must always have hope."

As if to reiterate her message, Celede rose to her feet, pulling Estel up with her. She gently moved out of his embrace, but she continued to hold Estel's hand.

"Come along, Estel," she said, "We must catch Elrohir before he gets too far ahead of us."

Not looking back to see what Legolas was doing, Celede and Estel raced to gather their bows and quivers before quickly mounting their horses, too anxious to retrieve the arrows they had fired down the field. As they entered the forest path to Rivendell, they met up with Legolas, who had also mounted his horse. Celede saw the streaks of heavy sweat on the Prince's horse, testimony to the speed at which Legolas had rushed to Rivendell.

The trio galloped single file down the path, pushing their horses as fast as they could go. Celede took the lead while Legolas quickly fell to the rear. As they neared the valley to Rivendell, Celede was surprised to catch sight of Elrohir, galloping along the path that would bend sharply into the cliff and lead down the side of it. With a shock, Celede realized that this was the very turn Elrohir had raced towards uncontrollably on that day so long ago, when Elladan had only just been able to stop Elrohir from careening to his death over the edge of the cliff. Now Celede and Estel were too far away, and Elrohir's fear for Elladan's condition had clouded his judgment.

"Elrohir, stop!" Celede cried desperately, but either she was too far away from him or he was choosing to ignore her.

"Please, Elrohir! Look out! Stop!" Celede screamed at him, but he didn't slow down as he reached the bend in the path. Celede could only watch in anguish as Elrohir realized his mistake too late. His horse reared at the edge in an attempt to stop before the cliff, but their momentum was too great. Celede screamed her brother's name once more as he and his horse disappeared over the side of the cliff.

Celede gasped, burying her head in Anara's mane. _Not my other brother, _was all she could think. Her horse slowed to a stop on its own by the side of the cliff. Celede heard Estel and Legolas pull up beside her, but she couldn't pull her eyes away from her horse. She heard Legolas curse and begin racing down the side of the cliff, although he stayed slow enough to maintain control.

Celede's thoughts were racing so hard her head ached. _Elrohir's not dead. No, he's not. Neither is Elladan. Elladan's here still. Not here exactly, but still in this world. He's alive. Elrohir is too. Elrohir's not dead. Neither of them are dead. No, they aren't. But who could survive that…?_

Celede was breathing unevenly and alternating between gasps and deep, anguished breaths. Her head was spinning even more. Celede felt herself slide off her horse and land unsteadily on the ground. Then, when she thought the situation couldn't get any worse, she felt her hand twitch. Her foot gave an involuntary jerk. Celede, knowing that a seizure was imminent, dropped to the ground and curled up in a ball, hoping irrationally that Estel wouldn't notice.

"Celede?" she heard him ask as he dismounted, "Celede, are you alright?"

"Estel," Celede rattled out as her arms began to shake.

"Get back…tell Father…candy rope…" was all she could get out before her jaw locked. She mentally cursed herself for not bringing the rope with her. She hadn't had a seizure for several decades, so she had hidden her candy rope in her room and not given her affliction a second thought. With all of the emotional trauma that had happened to her, however, Celede knew this seizure was going to be a hard one.

"Celede, what's happening?" Estel panicked, "What's wrong?"

_Estel, go get help. Please. I will be fine. Go find Lord Elrond. Please, go! _Celede thought to Estel desperately. The effort to communicate in that way drained her and her weak hold on her body dissolved. Her torso twisted as her back spasmed over and over. Estel tried to grab her, but she whacked him away. _GO, ESTEL, _Celede thought to him in one last burst of strength. The world grew fuzzy around her as blackness began to encroach upon her vision. As her body threw her head against the ground again and again, her vision blurred and she felt herself losing consciousness. The last thing she saw was Estel mounting his horse as Anara, ever her companion, lay down between Celede and the cliff to ensure she wouldn't follow Elrohir in tumbling down it.

ooOOoo

Legolas was distraught as he raced down the mountain after Elrohir. He had failed Elladan, and now he had failed to stop Elrohir from plunging down the side of a cliff. Not only that, Legolas felt that he was to blame for Elrohir's recklessness. If only he had told Elrohir differently, or stopped him from charging back to Rivendell on his own in the first place. Perhaps he should have gone straight to Lord Elrond instead of Elrohir, but he realized now that Celede was right. He had given up hope on Elladan and had wanted Elrohir to be the first to know that his brother was going to die. Legolas admired Elrohir and Celede's stoic belief that Elladan could still be saved, but they hadn't seen Elladan's condition, and he had.

The arrow had embedded itself into Elladan's chest, barely missing his heart. It had been fired from a short distance, and therefore had had the power to dig all the way through Elladan, enough so that the tip even poked out the other side. He had been told by the healers that the arrow had torn through one of the large vessels stemming from the heart, and that while the arrow had to be removed, the arrow was also the only thing keeping Elladan from bleeding to death. The Mirkwood healers had been able to put Elladan into a sleep-like trance to slow his heart and slow down the blood loss. They had told Legolas that Elladan was not in any pain, but that there was nothing more they could do for him. So Legolas had given up hope, and it had led to more disaster.

Unlike Celede, Legolas had rushed to the edge of the cliff and looked over the edge to find Elrohir. The shingles of a roof of a house jutting out of the cliff below him had shattered and were falling down into the river below. Elrohir or his horse must have hit the roof before tumbling down into the water. Legolas could still see the ripples created by their falls. That meant Elrohir had landed in water, and if Legolas could get to him before he drowned, there was still a chance that Elrohir could survive from his ordeal. That was why Legolas had taken off down the path and was taking the next turn faster than he should have. He caught himself by leaning towards the cliff side as his horse reared, but just barely.

The path down the cliff ended in a bridge that crossed over the river and led into the heart of Rivendell. As soon as he reached the bridge, Legolas leaped off his horse, who drooped exhaustedly beside him. Without hesitating, Legolas jumped off the bridge and dove into the water, barely making a splash in the raging river. Elrohir had fallen in upstream from the bridge, and Legolas struggled to swim against the current to where Elrohir had fallen. Even with his eyes open, Legolas could barely see his arms stroking the water in front of him. Branches caught in the current raced by him. After several near misses, a large log came flying down the river and slammed into the side of his head. Pain shot through his skull, and Legolas gasped, causing him to choke on the river water. He desperately swam to the surface, coughing and sputtering as he treaded water, his head pounding as stars danced across his vision. Legolas blinked a few times to clear his head, then looked around at the raging water. His heart sank. He had no way of finding Elrohir in this tumultuous river. For all he knew, the current could have swept Elrohir past the bridge before Legolas had even entered the water, and his search was already a lost cause.

Legolas prepared to dive down one last time. He took a deep breath, ignoring his burning lungs and his aching head. Suddenly, something slammed into him from behind, once again knocking the breath out of him. This time though, whatever had whacked him was soft and not unyielding like the branches he'd been struck with earlier. Legolas turned just in time to catch a glimpse of black hair and green tunic before Elrohir sank below the surface of the water again. Legolas dove for him desperately and just managed to grab a handful of tunic. He pulled Elrohir back up to the surface, keeping Elrohir upright by resting Elrohir's head on his shoulder. The effort nearly sent Legolas under the water again, and his vision swam in and out of focus. Without the strength to move out of the water, Legolas simply tried to float and hold on to Elrohir as he let the current take them where it would.

ooOOoo

Aragorn was terrified, although he wouldn't admit it to anybody. Just earlier that afternoon, he had been practicing archery like always with Elrohir and Celede. Then an elf he'd never seen before had burst in on his peaceful afternoon and sent everything spiraling into chaos. Elrohir and Celede had recognized the elf, who was some sort of Elvish prince, which had once again made Aragorn feel estranged from his foster family. They had never mentioned such an elf to Aragorn before, but the stranger was clearly close to them both. Elrohir had smiled and talked to him with the playful banter he usually reserved for Elladan, and something had flickered in Celede's eyes, although Aragorn couldn't tell exactly what. She had been surprised to see him, Aragorn thought, but she also seemed to be anticipating something. Whatever that might have been, the Elf-prince (Legolas was his name, Aragorn remembered) had not met Celede's expectations, and when her eyes fell at his rather formal greeting, Aragorn had suddenly been angry at Legolas for not doing whatever it was Celede thought he should have done.

None of that mattered anymore though, because before Aragorn could even start to wonder what Celede had expected from Legolas, Legolas was telling them that Elladan was going to die. _Elladan. _Aragorn had thought his foster family to be invincible. They could fight with swords and shoot arrows and perform feats of agility that Aragorn knew he could never even dream of mastering. The Elves could, at times, converse with parts of nature, such as the trees, and Lord Elrond was especially adept at manipulating diplomats of other races to agree to what he wanted. It had led Aragorn to believe that Lord Elrond could do anything he wanted, and Elrohir and Elladan could fight whomever they chose and still win. So his first reaction to Legolas's news was stubborn disbelief that Elladan was dying, because that just wasn't possible. Elladan couldn't be killed, especially not by one little arrow.

Aragorn didn't think it was possible for Elrohir to fall off the cliff path they had traveled so many times either. But fall he had. His first instinct when Elrohir fell was to look to Celede for support. She was just as capable as either of her brothers, or so he had thought, until she had slid off her horse and crumpled to the ground. Aragorn thought she might have fainted from the stress, so he'd called out to her. But then she was telling him something and suddenly thrashing about uncontrollably. He didn't know how to help. She knocked him away when he tried to hold her, and then she was commanding him to find Elrond. In his head, which would have shocked him if the events of the day had not already sent him into a blind state of panic.

So now Aragorn found himself on his horse, treading as carefully as he could down the path, fearful suddenly of falling like Elrohir had. When he reached the bridge, he noticed Legolas's horse standing alone, its head drooping weakly over the stone railing of the bridge. _Not him too, _Aragorn thought defeatedly as he urged his horse onwards into Rivendell.

Aragorn flew through the front gates of his family's dwelling at a gallop and almost collided with the stairs. His horse reared to a stop and he fell off, rolling away on the ground. Covered in leaves and dirt and tears, Aragorn took off at a limp into the villa.

"My Lord Elrond! Lord Elrond!" he cried as he raced through corridors and peered into rooms, "Please, I need help. They all need help! Please, you have to do something! Lord Elrond!"

"Aragorn, what is going on?" a familiar, worried voice came from around the bend of the next hallway. Gilraen stepped out of her rooms just as Aragorn ran into her. She took in his appearance with wide eyes.

"By the Vala, Aragorn, what happened? Are you hurt?" she cried, kneeling down to peer into his face. Aragorn brushed her away impatiently.

"I'm fine, Mother. It's the others who are in trouble. Where's Lord Elrond? Please, we have to find him. Elladan's dying, and Elrohir fell, and now there's something wrong with Celede! Please, we have to find Lord Elrond!"

Gilraen said nothing as she inspected Aragorn for injuries. Once she felt satisfied that her son wasn't badly injured, she answered his pleas.

"Just wait inside my room, Aragorn. I will go find him. You just stay here, alright? I will be right back," Gilraen said, ushering him inside.

"Please, Mother, hurry!" Aragorn cried as she left the room. He went to go sit on her bed and wait, but as he turned, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. His face was a sticky wet mess; he hadn't realized he had been crying again. His hair was covered in leaves and pine needles and his clothing was covered in dirt. He noticed a rip in one knee, and a shallow cut below it, although he didn't feel any pain. Aragorn didn't want to ruin his mother's clean bed, so he opted to just sit on the floor, facing away from the mirror and towards the door, hoping his mother would return soon with Lord Elrond.

While it probably took only a few moments for Elrond to arrive, Aragorn felt like ages had passed. Every second, Elladan was bleeding to death, Elrohir was drowning, and Celede- whatever was happening to Celede couldn't be good for her. And Legolas, where had Legolas gone? Aragorn scratched his fingernails absentmindedly on the stone floor as he sat, lost in thought. When Elrond finally burst through the door, Gilraen right behind him, Aragorn leaped up from the ground in exhausted relief.

"What's wrong, Estel?" Elrond demanded, his voice sharper than usual. Aragorn took a deep breath and started talking as fast as he could while still being understood. He didn't bother talking loudly, since he knew Elrond, being an Elf, would be able to hear him even if he mouthed the words. Gilraen was forced to lean closer to understand her son, but the concern on her face told Aragorn she didn't mind. He told Elrond everything that had happened that afternoon, from Legolas to Elladan to Elrohir to Celede, and back to Legolas's sudden disappearance on the bridge. Elrond grew stiller and stiller as Aragorn spoke, but thankfully he didn't interrupt until Aragorn was finished. Then Elrond turned to Gilraen.

"Send Belaraniel to find Celede. Tell her it's happened again, and Celede's medicine is in her room. She will know what to do. Also, dispatch a patrol of elves to find Elrohir. Have them scour the entire river if that's what it takes to find Elrohir, but find him!"

'And Elladan?" Gilraen asked.

"I will leave now for Mirkwood. Keep me updated on the situation back here."

"Of course, my lord," Gilraen bowed her head in deference.

"And tend to your son," Elrond said, gently now as he made his way out the door. He paused at the door and turned his head back to Aragorn. Aragorn blinked in surprise as Elrond spoke in English to him, something he hadn't done since Aragorn had first met him.

"Thank you, Estel. You were a true man today." And with that, Elrond swept out of the room, with the grace and dignity that only the Lord of Rivendell could possess.

ooOOoo

By the time Belaraniel reached Celede, Celede had managed to curl up into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest as she rocked back and forth on the ground. Beside her, Anara whickered gratefully at Belaraniel's arrival. Belaraniel dismounted from her own horse, retrieved Celede's candy rope from her knapsack, and approached Celede, kneeling down beside her. Celede had buried her face into her knees, and gently but firmly, Belaraniel forced Celede's head up just enough to slip the candy rope between her lips. As the athelas eased its way into her system, Celede groaned as her jaw relaxed and allowed her to bite down on the rope, sending more juice flooding into her system. Belaraniel gently stroked Celede's hair away from her face and talked soothingly to her as Celede's body began to relax and become her own again.

"There, there, now, my lady. It's almost passed," Belaraniel said. Celede just nodded her head weakly, but there was strength in her eyes as she pulled herself up to a sitting position and took the rope out of her mouth.

"Estel found you then," she said at last. "Have you found Elrohir? And what of Elladan?"

"Hush, Celede, don't send yourself back into it again," Belaraniel said softly, "There are Elves out looking for Elrohir, and as we speak, your father is on his way to help Elladan. There is nothing you can do right now but wait."

'I can help look for him. It's the least I can do," Celede muttered as she struggled to her feet. "I can't just sit by and do nothing."

"Yes, you can, or you will be on the ground again," Belaraniel said sternly, "Your father gave strict orders that you were to go back to your quarters and rest." _Well, he would've if he hadn't been so preoccupied with Elrohir and Elladan, _she thought sadly.

With a sigh, Celede draped herself over her horse. Only when she was situated on Anara's back did the horse finally stand up. Belaraniel led the way back to Rivendell as Celede exhaustedly lay her head in Anara's mane and closed her eyes.

As they entered into Rivendell, the pair was greeted by the young leader of the patrol sent to retrieve Elrohir, Henduil. He was around five hundred years old, which was quite young for one to have been able to secure such a high ranking position among Elrond's officials. He stood rigidly at attention in his green and brown mottled uniform as he waited for Celede to approach.

"What news?" Celede said immediately as she dismounted from Anara. Her knees almost buckled under her when she landed, but she managed to stay upright, leaning on her horse for support. "Have you found him?"

Henduil glanced at Belaraniel uneasily. "My lady," he began, "We have not yet found your brother. We have, however, found his horse."

Celede glanced up hopefully, and Henduil winced.

"But, my lady, I regret to inform you that his noble steed did not survive the fall."

Celede looked down at the ground. She would not let her tears fall. They had not found Elrohir, so she would not think the worst until she knew for certain that the worst had happened. After taking several deep breaths, Celede felt herself in control of her emotions, enough so to look up at Henduil. He was watching her with sympathy and compassion in his eyes.

"Thank you for telling me, Henduil son of Gariand. I hope that you will soon have better news to inform me of" Celede said formally. "But for now, if you could take care of my horse, I would like to retreat to my rooms."

"Of course, my lady," Henduil said, stepping up beside her. As she walked by, her hand brushed his, but she didn't seem to notice as she all but fled into her home. Henduil sighed, reaching up to her horse and whispering words of gratitude to Anara.

"She is troubled, Henduil," Belaraniel said kindly, "She would notice your attention to her otherwise, I am sure."

"It doesn't matter, my lady," Henduil replied as he walked with Belaraniel and the horses to the stables. "She is a Princess of Rivendell, whilst I am only a mere leader of a patrol. Even if she would have me, her father would disapprove. I would be better off not thinking about her, and she not thinking of me makes it all that much easier."

Belaraniel, however, thought Henduil was a kind and gentle Elf, the type that would care for Celede and keep her safe even when he learned of her affliction, and therefore, she had hope for the pairing.

"When you find Elrohir, make sure that you are the one who tells Celede, so that you two may rejoice together," she said as she led her horse into a stall.

"And if I were to find him…in less than joyous circumstances?" Henduil asked quietly.

"Then she will need a firm and steady shoulder to lean upon," Belaraniel said simply.

As the pair walked out of the stables, an Elf of Henduil's patrol came running toward him. Henduil watched him expectantly as he waited for the Elf to catch his breath.

"Sir, we found him," the Elf said breathlessly.

ooOOoo

Legolas fought the river to stay afloat, not for his sake, but for Elrohir's. He couldn't tell through the raging water whether Elrohir was breathing or not, but he wanted to give Elrohir every chance he could. That being said, Legolas still found himself being thrown under the surface again and again. Eventually, it was all he could do to keep hold of Elrohir. His lungs burning and his head pounding, Legolas fought for Elrohir's life. With no end in sight, Legolas came to realize that he was also fighting for his own life as well. _I will not leave Elrohir, _he thought desperately, _I will not leave him to die to save my own life. Elladan sacrificed himself for me and I will not leave his brother to die for my sake either. _Thoughts of Elladan were distracting though, and another large wave came crashing down on Legolas. He felt himself falling downwards, and for a moment he let himself, too shocked and tired to fight back. Suddenly, his feet slammed into something solid and decidedly unexpected. He had hit the bottom of the river. The water was shallower here.

With renewed vigor, Legolas pushed off of the ground and swam as far to the edge of the river as he could, hauling Elrohir beside him all the while. Sinking back down, Legolas waited until his feet touched ground again so he could push off it. This time his face broke through the surface of the water much sooner than he had expected. He could see a beach now, a gentle sloping beach that broke away from the cliffs and forests of Rivendell and beckoned to him invitingly. As he swam closer, he felt his feet touch the bottom again, and soon Legolas was walking out of the water, dragging an unconscious Elrohir beside him.

As soon as they were both free of the water, Legolas turned his attention to Elrohir. Elrohir was an ugly grey color, lying limply on his back.

"No, Elrohir," Legolas spoke to him as he turned Elrohir onto his side, "You do NOT get to die now. Not today. Not after I just fought so hard to rescue you."

Legolas made sure Elrohir's airway was clear before he started pounding on Elrohir's back. Water spewed from Elrohir's mouth, but he didn't stir. Legolas then rolled Elrohir onto his stomach, turning Elrohir's head so his nose and mouth were still free of beach sand. He continued to firmly smack Elrohir's back.

"Come on, Elrohir," Legolas muttered as more water came spewing out of Elrohir's nose and mouth with each push, "Come on, stay with me."

Still, Elrohir lay motionless on the sand. Legolas blew wet strands of hair out of his face in frustration. He leaned over Elrohir and put two fingers to his neck, feeling for a pulse of any kind. Nothing. Legolas quickly turned Elrohir onto his back and started methodically pumping his chest, trying to pump his heart for him too. Elrohir's head lolled to one side. No response.

Legolas's knowledge of healing was very limited. He knew medicinal herbs and how to bandage wounds and such, but severe injuries that required the art of healing had never been his strong suit. But as he continued chest compressions on an unresponsive Elrohir, Legolas decided that anything he did now couldn't hurt Elrohir any more than Elrohir was now.

Stopping his compressions, Legolas put a hand over Elrohir's chest, closed his eyes, and began to speak what words of healing he knew. _The patient's life, it slips away, away from this world and into another. I humbly plea for his life, and offer mine own in return, for Elrohir Elrondion, Prince of Rivendell, to come back to me. What Grace has given me, let it pass to him. Let him be saved._

Legolas opened his eyes. Still Elrohir lay limply underneath him. Time to improvise. _I do not pretend to be a healer. But Elladan is already in danger elsewhere. Elrohir's death would be devastating on top of that. So I'm asking any of the Valla who will listen to please spare Elrohir. _Still nothing.

Legolas slapped Elrohir's face in frustration. _Come on, Elrohir. I will not forgive you for dying on me. You owe me for jumping into that river. And you still owe me a bow and quiver of arrows from that orc incident, remember? And then that vase you broke playing with that ridiculous slingshot; that was my mother's favorite! So you really owe me for that too. Then there was that feast with my father you ransacked the night before. The cooks in Mirkwood still haven't forgiven you. And I won't forgive you if you die on me. Do you hear me, Elrohir? You owe me. You owe me not to die. So come back, Elrohir. Come back to me. Come back to Middle Earth. Come back to Lord Elrond and Celede and Elladan and me. Because you owe me that. Do not die, Elrohir. Come back!_

By now, Legolas could feel the tears streaming down his own face, mixing with the river water that streamed from his hair. The birds in the nearby tress chirped indignantly at his shouting, but he didn't care. All he cared about was Elrohir's life. His best friend's life. And still, Elrohir did not flinch at his words. Still nothing.

ooOOoo

Elladan was choking on his own blood. In any other circumstance, he would have been quite disgusted by this, but now all he could think about was that he couldn't breathe. He tried to move, to tell somebody, but he couldn't open his eyes. He couldn't wake himself up. He knew the Mirkwood healers had put him in some sort of suspended sleep, from which he couldn't wake up. It had been a welcome relief from the pain of the arrow, but now he couldn't breathe, and he couldn't tell anybody. It was a strange sort of sleep, for he could hear the Mirkwood healers talking to each other by his bedside; apparently Legolas had gone to Rivendell, to tell Elladan's family that he was dying, no doubt. Elladan had felt grateful at first, but now, seeing as he couldn't breathe and was probably likely to die, Elladan wished Legolas could have stayed with him, been there with him as he died. Or maybe just been there to notice that Elladan was choking, unlike the healers. Elladan felt his consciousness starting to slip away. As it did, he could faintly hear the Mirkwood healers finally call to each other in alarm, but it was too late. Elladan fell down, down into the depths of darkness.

He found himself in a sort of limbo. He couldn't see anything at all, just pure darkness surrounding him. Then a sudden bright golden light shone in the distance, blinding him. When his eyes had adjusted, he stared at the light, marveling at its beauty, and began to walk towards it without realizing what he was doing.

"Don't follow the light," a voice drawled behind Elladan. A voice Elladan knew well.

"Elrohir?" he gasped, realizing he could breathe but with some effort.

"Don't you know not to follow the light?" Elrohir replied, barely visible in the darkness, "That leads to the other side, the other world. The Halls of Mandos," Elrohir continued.

"How do you know?" Elladan asked suspiciously.

"Where else could it lead, Elladan?" Elrohir said in exasperation, "But you are asking the wrong question."

"Okay," Elladan said, "what are you doing here?"

Elrohir winced. "Not the question I wanted you to ask. Legolas- he told us what happened. I had to tell Father; you aren't dead yet, Elladan. Hang on. Father is on his way now. He can still save you."

"That doesn't answer my question, Elrohir," Elladan said.

"Okay. Well. Legolas came to tell us that you were going to die. But I personally decided he jumps to conclusions way too quickly, and negative ones at that. So when I was racing back to tell Father to go save you, I took that bend in the path too quickly than I should've, just like last time, only you weren't there to save me, and I might've…fallen down the cliff," Elrohir finished very quietly and rapidly. Elladan's eyes widened in shock.

"You have the hollow head of an orc, Elrohir!" was all he could say, "Actually, I do think the orcs are smarter. What's the matter with you? And so now you're here? Dying with me? Of all the stupid things you could have done…" Elladan sighed, realizing it was pointless to be bickering now.

"Where are we, exactly, anyway?"

Elrohir shrugged. Another thought had occurred to him.

"Or maybe, you aren't exactly here, Elladan," he said.

"What are you talking about now?" asked Elladan.

"Well, maybe I'm dreaming. Maybe this is my own personal version of you," Elrohir said.

"Then you are my own personal version of my brother, too?"

"No, I'm definitely real. But are you?"

"Of course I'm real!"

"But maybe you would say that if I dreamed you up."

"What?"

"Huh. I don't know."

Elladan rolled his eyes. He didn't know why he bothered trying to understand Elrohir sometimes. Or maybe the Elf standing with him in this limbo wasn't Elrohir. Maybe the Elf who might not be Elrohir was right. Maybe this was his own idea of Elrohir, in which case he wasn't surprised that his mind had come with such an annoying character. Elladan rubbed his temples, now completely confused with the situation.

"Okay, so how do I get out of here?" he asked.

"Ah ha! Now you're asking the right questions," said possible Elrohir.

"I could follow that light, maybe," said Elladan.

"But there is still a chance that this is real. And if so, don't follow the light. Never a good idea," Elrohir shook his head emphatically.

Elladan sighed, then gasped suddenly. He realized he couldn't breathe. He felt like he was choking on something in his throat, something liquid that burbled and gargled and choked him. He glanced over at Elrohir, who was rubbing his chest, his face grimaced.

"I think, dear brother, that this is what awaits us if we return to our world," said Elrohir.

Elladan nodded, unable to speak.

"Promise me you will fight to live?" Elrohir whispered, "Because I'm starting to believe that this is real, and that we are more connected than even Father has ever dreamed of. I will not live on Middle Earth without you, Brother."

Elladan nodded, his eyes boring into Elrohir's to tell him the same.

"Shall we choose life, then?" Elrohir asked, extending his forearm.

Elladan nodded his head once, then grasped Elrohir's forearm. The light blinked out and plunged him into darkness once more.

"Clear the way. Where is he?" a voice called through the chaos. A voice Elladan recognized with some surprise. _Could it be?_

"Yes, of course, my lady. We are honored by your presence," came the voice of one of the healers, awed and reverent. The woman ignored him.

"Your father is on his way, Elladan, but I am here to help you until he arrives. I am here to help him keep you alive. Stay strong. You can get through this. You will get through this." The voice of Galadriel floated down to Elladan from above, and he found that he could breathe once again.

ooOOoo

Legolas had stood up in defeat and was readying himself to go find help in carrying Elrohir's body back to Rivendell, when Elrohir suddenly came alive. Legolas sank back down on the sand and held Elrohir's shoulders in relief as he coughed and gagged up river water. When Elrohir finally took deep breaths without choking on water, Legolas embraced his friend. Elrohir hugged him back weakly, and when Legolas pulled away, Elrohir looked at his friend's tears with shock and not without a hint of mirth.

"You love me, don't you?" he said, smiling and speaking between deep breaths, "Come on, admit it."

Legolas grinned as he gently pulled Elrohir to his feet. "Nay, I was mourning the many debts you owe me that I thought would never get repaid if you died."

"Well," Elrohir said seriously, "it seems that I now owe you yet another debt. This time for my life."

Legolas grinned again, "Just don't fall off a cliff again. Do you see now why I hate Rivendell so?"

"You don't hate Rivendell," Elrohir teased, "Rivendell is the my home, as well as the dwelling of my brother, my dignified father, and the rest of my family, including my very pretty and currently available little sister."

Elrohir smirked. "I saw how you looked at her at that dance long ago."

"If you don't start moving, I will toss you back into the river myself," Legolas retorted.

Elrohir snickered and winced, his chest still sore from his recent experience. Legolas let Elrohir put an arm on his shoulder as they hobbled back to meet the patrol Belaraniel had sent out to look for them.

ooOOoo

Henduil couldn't hold back his smile as he walked to Celede's rooms to tell her the good news. He reached her closed door and knocked politely.

Celede's cautious face met his as she opened the door. She had changed into a flowing silver gown that brought out the silvery blonde sheen of her hair, which she had let loose from her braid to flow freely around her shoulders. Henduil thought he had never seen anyone more beautiful than she did at that moment. When Celede saw his smile, her eyes filled with hope.

"Elrohir?" she whispered, her voice tinged with an excitement that she tried hard to suppress. Henduil grinned even wider.

"We found him, my lady. He and Legolas are both alive, and both will make full recoveries," Henduil replied.

"Legolas?" Celede inquired, "What happened to Legolas?"

"It seems that Prince Legolas of Mirkwood jumped into the river to save your brother, my lady. He is a bit exhausted and has some cuts and bruises, but he is alive and well, as is your brother."

Celede was already pushing her way past him. She had almost turned the corner in the hallway before she remembered protocol. She turned back to face Henduil.

"Thank you for bringing me this news, Henduil," she said quickly, before racing away.

"It is my pleasure, my lady," Henduil said to an empty corridor. Suddenly, he did not feel like smiling anymore.

ooOOoo

"Elrohir! Elrohir! Thank the Vala you are alright!" Celede cried as she ran down the steps to where Legolas and Elrohir were sitting on stone benches, being tended to by healers. Elrohir's chest was wrapped in bandages, as was Legolas's head. Both looked weary and beat, but Elrohir smiled when he saw Celede. His happy expression turned into alarm when Celede didn't slow down her approach. She almost knocked him backwards over the bench he was perched on as she flew into him, embracing him tightly. Elrohir gasped, but held Celede close as well.

"I'm alright, dear sister," he said softly, "Thanks to Legolas here, decidedly more so than the Vala."

Celede nudged him gently in reprimand for slighting the Vala, but she turned towards Legolas, who was watching both of them. His eyes widened when Celede released Elrohir and came to him, arms outstretched. Legolas froze, shocked at her forwardness, until Elrohir gestured impatiently for Legolas to return the embrace. Legolas awkwardly encircled his arm around Celede, glaring at Elrohir as he grinned at Legolas's obvious discomfort.

"Le hannon," Celede was whispering repeatedly into Legolas's ear. _Thank you. _

Legolas patted her back, at a loss for words and suddenly acutely aware of how close she was to him. Her hair smelled like a crisp, cool evening in a field of flowers, and he found himself drinking in her sweet scent without realizing what he was doing.

"I did what any friend would have done," Legolas finally said, gently pulling her away from him before he did anything else unexpectedly, "I did what Elladan had done for me, only-"

"Elladan will be alright," Celede said firmly. He noticed her face was slightly flushed. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she stood up and moved away from him.

"I will leave you two to rest then," she finally muttered, "But don't worry, I will be back soon. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Elrohir smirked, "Of course, my dear sister, you just can't get enough of us."

Celede laughed and playfully whacked his arm. Elrohir ignored the pain and just continued to smile. He watched her walk gracefully up the steps, the sunset shining streaks of gold into her silvery hair and gown. Then he lay back on the bench and closed his eyes, feeling at peace again and confident from his dream, or whatever it was that happened when he was unconscious, that Elladan would live to fight alongside him for many more years to come.

ooOOoo

Celede walked back up the steps, lost in thought. She had embraced Legolas without thinking, and now she couldn't get the feeling of him out of her mind. His body had been warm and strong against hers, and she had felt her heart beat more rapidly as she realized this, although she hoped he didn't notice. In that moment, Celede had wanted nothing more than to remain in that embrace, snuggled close to him. It was only when he pulled away that she realized how stupid she must have seemed to him. So now, as she walked back to her rooms, she felt a bit conflicted. Half of her wanted to return to Legolas while the other half wanted to flee as far away from him as possible. It was quite a novel feeling. She was so absorbed by these thoughts that she turned a corner and almost collided into Estel, who had been running in the opposite direction.

"Celede! You are okay!" Estel cried, hugging her.

"Yes, I'm fine now. Thank you, Estel," Celede replied, her mind still intent on returning to her rooms to think some more and attempt to sort out her strange feelings.

"Celede, what happened to you? Up on the cliff, I mean," Estel was asking her, suddenly serious and solemn.

"Noth- Nothing, Estel. I'm fine," Celede said, her attention returning to Estel.

"No, something was definitely wrong up there, Celede, and I think I deserve to know what ails you," said Estel.

"Not right now, Estel. Have you heard? Elrohir and Legolas have returned, alive and well."

"Stop avoiding the subject," Estel interrupted, "I need to know what's wrong."

He held her gaze, refusing to be the first to break eye contact. Finally, Celede closed her eyes and sighed.

"Go see Legolas and Elrohir and welcome them back. I will go get some water and then meet you in the library, where I will tell you everything I know about…my affliction. Alright?" she said quietly.

Estel was till for a moment. Then he gave her a firm nod and walked by her towards the direction of the courtyard entrance to Rivendell, where Legolas and Elrohir lay. Celede hastily returned to her room and took out her candy rope from where she had hidden it underneath her pillow earlier. She sighed before leaving her chambers. There would be a time for her to think about her feelings, but now would not be it.

And so, both Elladan and Elrohir lived to tell of their ordeals and to fight another day, and Estel learned of the evil that afflicted Celede. When Elladan returned to Rivendell, there was much rejoicing, but from then on, Elrond of Rivendell was much more protective of his realm and his children than he had ever been before.

Unbeknownst to Celede and her family, in the world outside of Rivendell, the White Council, led by the wizard Saruman the White, had gone on a mission of their own. They had sought out the dark force known as the Necromancer, whom they later learned to be Sauron, still alive and dwelling in Dol Guldur, a dark hill located in southern Mirkwood. Using the battle where Elladan had been injured, which would later be called the Battle of the Five Armies, as a distraction, the wizards managed to chase Sauron out of Dol Guldur. Unfortunately, Sauron managed to escape from them once again and retreated to Mordor, where he secretly began his final preparations for one last war in Middle Earth. One he intended to win this time.

_**We've almost reached the beginning of the Fellowship of the Ring, so stay with me! **_

_**(If you are a fan of my work or not, I am definitely a fan of reviews! ;-) Anything to be a better writer!)  
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	6. To Love or Not to Love

_**A/N: A final Back-to-School gift for you all! Thanks to everyone who reviewed or Favorite-ed (spelling?...)!**_

_**Also, seeing as school is about to start, I'm sorry to say you shouldn't expect another chapter anytime soon. :-( I can only promise that I will not abandon this story!  
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_**A mystery from Ch. 3 (The Passage of Time) becomes clear in this chapter, so it might be a good idea to glance back through Chapter 3 again before reading.  
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_**Final Disclaimer: I still don't own anything, that's never gonna change, no matter how much I write. So I'll say it for the last time, Middle Earth and all other characters you recognize from the books/movies are the creation of J.R.R. Tolkien, not me!  
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_**Words bold and italicized in the story come straight from Appendix A (v) in Tolkien's The Return of the King. The Elvish is from arwen-undomiel(.com) .  
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Celede hiked her gown above her ankles so she wouldn't trip as she rushed down the stairs, at the base of which Elladan and Elrohir were attaching saddlebags to their horses. Elrohir had just finished tightening the straps on his horse when he turned and saw Celede coming towards them. He sighed and turned back to the animal quickly.

"Here she comes, Elladan," he muttered under his breath. Elladan pretended to not hear him.

"Leaving so soon?" Celede asked as she came to a stop directly in front of them. When neither of her brothers deigned to acknowledge her, she went straight to the heart of the matter.

"Please, why can't I go with you?"

"We've been over this, Celede," Elladan replied patiently, "It's too dangerous. Not to mention unbefitting of a Lady of Rivendell."

"That's just stupid," Celede retorted, "I can fight just as well as you can. I can keep up with you, I promise. Just give me the chance to come along, that's all I ask."

"You are missing the point, Celede," Elrohir snapped at her. She stared him down, refusing to flinch as he glared at her. This argument had been ongoing between Celede and her brothers since they first announced their plans to her a week ago.

"Ten years ago, we both almost died," Elrohir continued, gesturing to himself and his brother, "We are hundreds of years older than you, Celede, and we still almost died. All it takes is one mistake, one arrow, and you can be fighting a losing battle for your life. We aren't going to the archery field, Celede. We are going into the wilderness to seek out and destroy orcs and goblins and other nasty creatures that are invading the lands of the Dunedain up north. Do you understand? The purpose of this mission is to kill, Celede, to actively seek out fights. And I don't have time to cover for an irritating little sister fresh out of the comfortable womb of Rivendell."

"How dare you, Elrohir, suggest that I am not able to fight?" Celede said angrily, "You are off to battle alongside Men. I may not be able to shoot as well as you, but I can most certainly shoot better than any of them. And don't treat me like such a weakling. I understand the danger. I'm well aware of the risk."

"Are you sure, Celede?" Elladan said softly. Unlike Elrohir, his voice never rose from its typical softness. His words however, affected Celede more than Elrohir's temper could have.

"Are you sure you are prepared to face the blood and the gore and the shrieks of the dying, some of those screams stemming from the mouths of your closest friends and allies? Are you prepared to slice your way through the chest of an orc, and feel the horror of its hot, black blood splattering against your face? Your heart will beat faster as the hearts of those you kill come shuddering to a stop, but then you can only watch from inside yourself as kill after kill numbs you, leads to murder growing monotonous to you. As you keep killing, you even begin to feel indifferent to murder, something which would have been inconceivable to you up until then. And then far past that point, the waves of orcs continue to encircle you.

Can you truly understand that? The constant fear running through your veins because you know that any stroke of the sword or nock of an arrow could be the last thing you ever feel in this world? The knowledge that no matter how many creatures you kill, it only takes one orc left alive to end you? If you can live with that, if you can stomach the shock of battle, then I envy you greatly. I am not immune to the horrors of war, even though I have been forced to fight on so many occasions. This isn't a game, Celede. Battle should never be looked forward to. I fight because it is necessary, and for no other reason. I would certainly not be so eager to engage in battle as you."

Elladan gazed steadily at Celede as he spoke, but she refused to look at him, instead choosing to stare off into space, finally closing her eyes in shame as she listened to Elladan's final words. He was right, she was forced to admit to herself. She had wanted to fight because she had thought it would be a brave thing to do and a way for her to prove herself as a capable warrior.

Since her brother's accidents, Lord Elrond had grown increasingly protective of the three of them. Elrohir and Elladan had only been able to persuade their father to let them go on this mission to help the Dunedain Men by logically arguing with Elrond that Middle Earth could not afford to have two of the finest marksmen hidden in Rivendell during such grave and desperate times. With her brothers gone, Celede knew her father's protectiveness of her would become suffocating.

But perhaps her final motive for going was for her own need to protect her family; the last time she had let Elrohir and Elladan leave for battle, both had nearly died. Celede feared that if she let her brothers go off alone again, neither would return to her.

But again, Elladan was right. She herself was not ready for battle, and perhaps an error on her part would cost her or her brothers dearly. This time, she could not accompany them on their mission.

"Fine, Elladan," she finally responded, "I am resigned to remaining in Rivendell, praying for your safe return."

Her brothers' relief at her acquiescence was an almost tangible force between them. Elrohir even moved around his horse to embrace Celede.

"We _will_ return," he promised Celede. Releasing her, he tenderly placed a stray strand of her hair back behind her ear.

"Besides, little sister," Elrohir said with the faintest of smirks, "We can look out for each other this time around."

Their departure was nothing grand; for their safety and that of Rivendell, Lord Elrond did not wish their whereabouts to become common knowledge. So all too soon, Celede found herself standing next to her father as they prepared to send the twins off. Estel, now nearly twenty years old, was no longer the little boy Celede still thought him to be. He stood stiffly off to the side with his mother, taller than both her and Celede.

"_Ná Elbereth veria le, ná elenath dín síla erin rád o chuil lín," _Lord Elrond blessed his sons. _May Elbereth protect you, may her stars shine on the path of your life._

Celede felt that his words were a bit too solemn for the occasion. She refused to even consider the notion that her brothers would return in any less than the perfect shape they were in now.

"_Belain na le,_" Celede said to her brothers. _The Valar be with you. _

Elladan and Elrohir nodded their heads in polite acknowledgement of Elrond's and Celede's words, then proceeded to mount their horses.

"_Cuio vae!_" they both shouted back before turning around and urging their horses through the gates and out of Rivendell. _Farewell! _Neither looked back.

When they were out of sight, Lord Elrond put a comforting arm around Celede's shoulder, and for once Celede didn't mind the gesture.

ooOOoo

Celede wanted Estel's twentieth birthday to be a memorable one. He had recently expressed a desire for a throwing dagger of his own after his special training sessions with her, so Celede asked Henduil to craft one for her soon after her brothers had left.

"For you, my lady?" he questioned, surprised, "What purpose would a Princess of Rivendell have for a dagger, if I may inquire?"

Celede fought the urge to roll her eyes at him. That would be a breach of propriety for sure. It seemed that Henduil thought that because Celede was a Lady, she could not be an able warrior.

"Not for me, for Estel," she replied, not in the mood to argue with Henduil, "As a birthday gift."

"Of course, my lady. That makes much more sense. It will be done," Henduil said, satisfied with her answer. As she walked away from him, he admired the way her hair swished behind her, almost in sync with the folds of the beautiful gown that snugly clung to her figure. Henduil blinked and mentally shook himself for thinking such thoughts.

"Oh, my Lady!" Henduil called after her, suddenly remembering. She stopped and turned back around.

"I have received news that the Lady Arwen will be returning soon from Lothlorien."

The smile that spread across Celede's face was blindingly stunning. He wished he had more good news to tell her.

"Thank you, Henduil," she said excitedly before she continued to walk away. Henduil sighed longingly.

On the day of Estel's birthday, Belaraniel woke Celede up earlier than usual.

"Lord Elrond requests your presence as soon as possible in the library," she told a groggy Celede. Her words woke Celede up quickly, however.

"What's happened? Are my brothers alright?" she asked shrilly as she quickly put on a forest green dress.

"Yes, yes, from their last correspondence, they are doing fine," Belaraniel said impatiently, "But hurry, we must not keep Lord Elrond waiting."

Celede thrust open the library doors and strode in nervously. Her father sat on a couch opposite Gilraen, she saw with some surprise. Gilraen looked more weary than usual, her hands fiddling idly in her lap.

"Father, is something wrong?" Celede asked, "Is everything alright?"

"Everything is as it should be," Elrond replied, gesturing for Celede to sit in a chair next to Gilraen's couch. Only when Celede had seated herself did Elrond continue.

"As you know, today is the twentieth anniversary of Aragorn's birth," he said. Celede jumped at his words. She had never heard him use the name Aragorn since he had renamed Gilraen's son Estel all those years ago.

"And as such," Elrond continued, "I believe it is time that Aragorn learn of his true heritage. I thought you should be informed of this before I tell him the truth."

Silence met his words as Celede stared back and forth between the two of them, surprised. When neither spoke to contradict Elrond's words, Celede allowed herself to smile.

"Thank the Vala, I am so tired of keeping the truth from him," Celede said, relieved.

Elrond nodded his head in agreement.

"I know the truth was difficult to hide from him, especially for you, but it had to be done. No longer, though," Elrond continued, "Aragorn is no longer a child, and times are getting worse. He is needed by his people to fend off the orcs that are overrunning their lands. I expect Aragorn to meet up with Elladan and Elrohir soon, in fact."

Gilraen gasped. Apparently, Elrond had not informed her of that latest development.

"Are you sure, my lord?" she asked nervously, "He is still only twenty. Barely a man…"

"He is old enough, Lady Gilraen," Elrond said softly, "We knew that this time would come. Aragorn has learned much from my children; I daresay he could best even the most skilled Dunedain by now. Prolonging his sheltered stay in Rivendell would not be prudent given the circumstances."

Gilraen looked down at her lap.

"He is my only son. If I were to lose him…" she trailed off. Then she raised her head, her eyes filled with tears she refused to let fall.

"And he is mankind's last hope, isn't he? Wouldn't it be prudent to keep him safe until his time has come to ascend the throne of Gondor?" she asked hopefully.

"The world of Men may fall as it is, Gilraen. You know that. Mankind needs all the help it can get at this point, and as I have already said, Aragorn is a better fighter than most."

Elrond continued in a softer tone, "I will send him with Elrohir and Elladan. They will ensure his safety. I know your worry. I know the concern you have for him, as I also share it."

A heavy silence fell on the room. Sensing that she could contribute little more to the conversation, Celede turned to leave.

"I do not think I am needed here when Est- Aragorn is told the truth. Henduil has recently informed me that my sister is to return soon from Lothlorien. If I may, Father, I would like to go out and wait for her return."

Elrond bowed his head in acquiescence.

"She may not be back today though. Soon is a relative term." Elrond called after Celede as she left the library.

When Celede reached the garden, she let out a sigh of pleasure as she sat down on the edge of her mother's fountain and dipped her hand into the cool water. At last, at long last, Estel would know his heritage; that he was Aragorn, son of Arathorn, future King of Gondor. She wouldn't have to evade his questions or lie to him ever again. Even more exciting, Arwen was returning home. Arwen, the sister she hadn't seen for decades. How strange it was that Arwen had never even met Estel before. She knew of his existence in Rivendell, but learning of him through letters was far different than learning about him in person. Celede wondered if they would get along; she thought that they would. After all, she considered Estel to be a brother to her; surely Arwen would accept him as such too.

Lost in thought, Celede did not notice Henduil walk up behind her. Only when she saw his reflection in the pool of water did she spin around, surprised.

"Henduil!" she exclaimed, "Your startled me."

"My apologies, my Lady," Henduil replied, his posture tense, hands clasped behind his back. He seemed nervous for some reason, which concerned Celede.

"Henduil, is everything alright?" she asked. He relaxed a bit and nodded.

"I only came to ask if there was anything you need," he said. Celede frowned slightly. He was the leader of a patrol, not her servant. When she told him as much, he laughed.

"I am not here because of duty. It is my pleasure to get you anything you may desire. I am in it for your happiness," he said.

With a flourish, he drew his hands out from behind his back, one of which held a white lily, the edges of the pearly white petals sparkling radiantly as he held it out to her. A sinking feeling rose inside Celede. She remembered this happening once before, with a different man, that had led to disastrous results. It could not be happening again… She had promised herself to never love again, to not be drawn in by such displays of affection. Celede's cheeks flushed with discomfort, but Henduil took that to mean she was blushing in pleasure. He wished that she would smile that radiant smile for him again thought. Henduil held the flower closer to her, brushing her fingers as she finally reached out to take it from him. She pulled away quickly. She was shy, Henduil thought, but it was a start.

Celede was in the process of trying to thank Henduil without sounding uncomfortable when Estel came running into the garden, his eyes angry and wild. She turned to face him with concern, but also relief that she could escape from Henduil with good reason.

"Excuse me," she said to Henduil, who gave a gracious nod. As Estel strode towards her, Henduil left her side, glancing over his shoulder once at Estel's angry form before leaving the courtyard.

"Estel, what's wrong?" Celede asked.

"Estel, Estel you call me! Did you know that that is not my true name?" Aragorn said angrily. Celede had never seen him so agitated in her life.

"So they told you," Celede said quietly. Aragorn had been staring at the fountain behind her, but as she spoke, his eyes riveted back to her.

"You knew? You were in on this too?" he nearly shouted at her. Celede took a step back, bewildered.

"Estel, I'm sorry. We all hated not telling you, but it was necessary-"

"Necessary? Necessary?" Aragorn was so angry that he switched Celede's Elvish into English and continued to speak to her in the common tongue.

"You lied to me, and you still have the impudence to call me Estel?"

Celede eyes widened. Estel was never that disrespectful to her, or anyone else for that matter. He was truly distressed.

"Aragorn, you couldn't know. It was for your own good," Celede spoke softly, trying to calm him down.

"How could keeping my lineage from me possibly have been for my own good?" Aragorn's fists were clenched, but Celede was coming to realize that he was more upset than angry.

"Because power went straight to Isildur's head. You know this, Estel-" Celede stopped, gauging Aragorn's reaction to being called his old name. When he simply continued to look at her, she exhaled in relief. She could continue to call him Estel then. To her, Aragorn would always be Estel. She continued to speak.

"Isildur knew he was to be King, and he became greedy with that power. It led to his flawed decisions. Lord Elrond always says that Isildur had the chance to end Sauron once and for all, but he was too greedy for the greater power Sauron offered him." It occurred to Celede that her father had never told her the exact details of Isildur's situation. She would have to ask him sometime.

"And furthermore, you were young and liable to expose the knowledge of your heritage," Celede continued, "When you came to Rivendell, you were too young to understand exactly how important your heritage was. So we waited until you were old enough to finally comprehend who you are and how important it is to keep that knowledge secret."

There was silence between them. Celede knew Estel needed time with his newfound knowledge. She sympathized with Estel; the poor boy was probably in shock. His next words came as a shock to_ her_, however.

"I didn't want to know."

Celede frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Now that I know who I am, I wish I didn't know. I wish I was still just Estel of Rivendell," he said quietly.

"Why would you wish that? You can't change who you are, and I'm sure you agree that the truth is always better than the lie," Celede replied, "You said as much yourself earlier."

"I wish I didn't know because I do not want to be that person. I do not want to be some all important ruler of Men. I do not wish to rule over anyone. I do not want to become selfish and corrupt and greedy like Isildur. I just want to live in peace, and help others when I can. Never lead them."

Celede was silent, thinking of how to explain to Aragorn what he needed to understand.

"Estel, no one is able to change their lineage. No one is able to change that part of what makes them who they are. Even when you were Estel of Rivendell, you were still Aragorn, son of Arathorn and Gilraen. Just because we called you a different name never changed who you are, the last living descendant of Isildur. It is a shock, I know, but there is time still, to learn and ready yourself for the throne of Gondor before you assume your title."

"No, you don't understand," Aragorn said bitterly, "I do not want to ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. I will never want it! Anyone else can have it! Just don't make me do that."

"It's your blood to lead," Celede said simply.

She watched as Aragorn, who had calmed somewhat, returned to clenching his fists until they were white with tension.

"I do not want that blood," he said resolutely before striding out of the garden.

"Estel, come back!" Celede called after him, "It will take time, I know, but you will be a great king. You aren't ready now, but when you are, you will be one of the best rulers of Middle Earth. I know so!"

She sighed as he refused to acknowledge any of her words, his flinch the only indication that he'd heard her at all. She gazed down at the flower she still held. Depositing it into her mother's fountain, where it gently floated on its leaves, Celede sighed, wondering when Arwen would return. Celede had turned to leave the courtyard when a sudden realization stopped her. She looked back at the flower. Its gentle luminescence in the water had given away its identity; the flower was a special water lily that was native to only Lothlorien. And that meant…Arwen's contingent had returned. Curious and slightly annoyed that Henduil had not told her this, Celede raced to the entrance of Rivendell to greet her sister.

ooOOoo

Aragorn kicked a rock out of his way as he walked down a forest path, one of many in Rivendell. Any other person besides, maybe, other Elves, wouldn't have been able to distinguish this path through the trees, but Aragorn, after years of following his foster siblings, could pick out the little imprints in the earth that marked the path. He knew it was childish to be kicking a rock, but he couldn't help it.

When Elrond first asked to see him that morning, Aragorn had been excited, and perhaps a bit greedy. It was his twentieth birthday, after all, and he was looking forward to a great day with maybe, although he was loathe to admit it, some nice gifts for him as well. His foster family had never ceased to disappoint him on previous birthdays. So when he entered Elrond's study, it was with a light heart.

Elrond had done little to soften the blow, perhaps because he didn't think Aragorn would react the way he had, angry and upset. But if he had been surprised by Aragorn's sudden outburst, Elrond had betrayed none of it. Aragorn had shouted at his foster father until tears formed in his eyes, asking him "why?" over and over again. Why had he not been told before? Why did _he _have to be the future king? Elrond had not even winced at any of Aragorn's cruel words, words that Aragorn screamed at him with venom, trying to get Elrond to feel as Aragorn had felt at that moment. Gilraen had flinched back at her son's words, but Aragorn had not let that deter him from his anger. When he had finally stormed outside, he felt like a child all over again, and he was especially ashamed that he had hurt his mother. He had never done that intentionally before in his life.

Aragorn kicked another rock bitterly. As the rock skittered off the path, birds chirped in indignation as it disrupted them. Aragorn sighed. They thought he could rule a kingdom. He thought they were crazy.

Then he had spied Celede and Henduil in the gardens. He had noticed Henduil's advances in the past weeks. Celede had remained oblivious, whether it was because she chose to act that way or she was just simply ignorant to Henduil's motives. Aragorn had been surprised by what he felt about this; a sudden need to protect Celede from the advances of the Elf. She was obviously uncomfortable with Henduil's sudden actions towards her, and although she was far older than him, Aragorn had begun to feel an insistent need to protect her. Especially now that he was taller than her, he was beginning to think of Celede almost as a younger sister, a maiden in need of his protection, especially now that Elladan and Elrohir were away. Certainly, Celede did not look any older than Aragorn.

His twentieth birthday had been a day of firsts. Now, as he contemplated Celede's situation, he began to realize for the first time that he wished someone would be attracted to him in the way that Henduil was obviously attracted to Celede. That, coupled with the fact that he had been around Elves all his life, led Aragorn to do a strange thing, another first in his life. Aragorn began singing as he walked through the woods, a ballad telling the story of Beren and Luthien Tinuviel. Beren had been a Man, and Luthien had been an Elven maiden, yet the two had fallen so deeply in love with each other that Luthien had given up her immortality to be with Beren, her lover. While Aragorn would never want an Elf to give up her life for him, no matter what, he still allowed himself to dream of having a maiden love him that strongly as he continued to wander alone down the path. It was only when he looked up from the ground that he realized he was not alone in the forest.

Lo and behold, an Elven maiden was walking the opposite direction down a nearly parallel path to the one Aragorn was traveling on. Aragorn's voice caught in his throat as he inhaled sharply. The woman was more beautiful than any he had ever laid eyes upon. She wore a traveling cloak of dark blue, but with a silvery sheen about it, that rippled as she walked. Her hood was down, revealing a slender face with large almond eyes and red lips that brought color to her otherwise pale face. Her dark hair was adorned with a simple lace diadem, the gems of which gently jingled together as a sudden breeze blew her hair behind her. Aragorn blinked slowly, sure he was dreaming. After all, he had been singing of Tinuviel and now here she was, standing before him. The day's events must have befuddled his mind more than he realized.

"_**Tinuviel! Tinuviel!**_" Aragorn cried as he ran off the path towards her. Even though she was just a dream, he didn't want her to disappear from his sight.

To his surprise, the maiden turned to look at him, following him with her eyes as he approached. She made no move to come near him, however. When he was close enough, her eyes widened as she noticed his Elvish garb but rounded ears.

"_**Who are you?**_" she asked, then smiled, "_**And why do you call me by that name?**_"

Aragorn answered as formally as he could, slightly embarrassed now, "_**Because I believed you to be indeed Luthien Tinuviel, of whom I was singing. But if you are not she, then you walk in her likeness.**_"

The smile faded from the maiden's face, and she was almost somber when she replied, "_**So many have said. Yet her name is not mine. Though maybe my doom will be not unlike hers.**_"

The dreams she had experienced recently in Lothlorien were still very vivid and real in her mind, yet she felt distressed by the choice her dream self always made before she woke up, gasping with fear and shock. She shook herself out of these thoughts and back to the young man that stood before her. He was very handsome, she realized, but so very young…

"_**But who are you?**_" the maiden asked, to continue the conversation. She watched him squirm uncomfortably before saying, "_**Estel I was called, but I am Aragorn, Arathorn's son, Isildur's Heir, Lord of the Dunedain.**_"

He said his title almost as if it were a death sentence. His appearance finally made sense to her now, though. This was the boy her siblings had written to her about. She wondered if he knew about her.

"_**Then we are kin from afar,**_" she said in an effort to cheer him up, "_**For I am Arwen Elrond's daughter.**_"

She watched his own eyes flicker in recognition now.

"So you are the sister who lived in Lothlorien for a time," he said. She nodded. Aragorn nearly sighed. That meant this beautiful maiden was much, much older than him, although she looked his age. He must be like an infant in her eyes. When neither spoke, Arwen finally broke the silence.

"I shall take my leave now, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, for I am sure my family has missed me as I have missed them," she said.

"Of course, my lady," Aragorn replied quickly, bowing slightly, "It was a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Likewise," Arwen said before continuing to walk down the path.

Aragorn watched her until the trees hid her from view. Even though she was more than two thousand years older than he, Aragorn realized at that moment that he knew how Henduil felt about Celede, but to a much sharper degree. Aragorn was head over heels in love with an Elven maiden he knew he could never have.

ooOOoo

When Arwen stepped out of the woods and into the entrance to Rivendell, she saw her sister and Father waiting at the base of the steps leading up to their home. Celede grinned at her sister and came forward to embrace her. Arwen noticed Celede did not run, as her sister might have done before Arwen had left Rivendell.

"Arwen, welcome back!" her sister greeted, pulling away to look at her sister. Arwen looked much the same as she had when she had left, a little more than two hundred years ago.

"You have matured much in the time I was gone," Arwen replied with a smile. Celede blinked once at Arwen's formality, but quickly dismissed it. She knew that being in Lothlorien, talking constantly to Galadrial and Celeborn, would accustom anyone to traditional Elvish formality. Arwen's Elvish even had the slightest Lorien accent, although Celede doubted that many others could notice it.

"Daughter, I am glad that you have returned safely back to Rivendell," Elrond greeted Arwen, "These times are most troubling, and I fear they shall only get worse."

Arwen bowed her head in acknowledgement.

"We have much to discuss, Father," she replied solemnly, "I bring news from the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn."

The days that followed were a blur of activity for Celede. Arwen was back, and that meant unpacking all of her many belongings and sharing all of the events and news of the past two hundred years. Celede was so caught up in talking with Arwen that she even forgot to give Estel his dagger until the day after his birthday. She was thrilled when Estel was greatly pleased with her gift.

Celede was surprised that Estel's temper had dissipated so quickly. He had been so angry after hearing the truth about his ancestry, but by the time he returned for dinner that night, he had acted like nothing had ever happened. He was happier than Celede had ever seen him, and she was glad that he and Arwen took to each other so well. It was only after Arwen had returned for a month that Celede began to notice and understand the interactions between the two.

Estel's eyes always seemed to wander to Arwen whenever the two of them were in the same room. Arwen, on her part, rarely looked at Estel, although when she did, her glances were done surreptitiously. The tenderness on her face was unmistakable. Celede came to realize that the two were drawn to each other. She thought perhaps it was because Estel was new to the family, and Arwen was going above and beyond to show her acceptance of a Man into Rivendell.

Celede was standing by the railing of her balcony one night when she witnessed the two sneak into the courtyard. They thought they were alone, she realized, with only her mother's statue a witness to their meeting. Of course, Celede was perched in the shadows of her balcony, and she witnessed the entire exchange.

ooOOoo

Arwen led Aragorn into the courtyard, where her mother's statue cried out to the Grey Havens. The sight of her mother, although just a statue, made Arwen feel sick with grief and longing. She missed her mother terribly, even after all those long years. The pain had been more bearable in Lothlorien with Galadriel, whom Celebrian had resembled so greatly. Arwen's real motive for going to visit her grandparents was to escape from Rivendell, from the place where she had so many memories of her mother. She had thought, finally, that she had managed to accept her mother's passing while in Lothlorien, and that it was safe for her to return to Rivendell. When she walked into the valley though, she realized she couldn't have been more wrong. The pain had struck her full force, and that had been why she had fled into the woods to compose herself before greeting her family.

The man she met in the woods, Aragorn, intrigued her however, and somehow eased the grief she felt over losing her mother. He was so young, she knew, and a Man at that, but he was handsome nonetheless. It was his eyes that she loved most about him. They reflected a maturity beyond his years, and a determination to do the right thing with a strength of will that Arwen had never seen before in anyone. When she caught Aragorn looking at her often, she knew she should have dissuaded him from thinking about her, but she couldn't. It pleased her immensely that Aragorn looked at her in such a way. Arwen knew her place, however, and so she brought Aragorn out into the courtyard one night to tell him what needed to be said, no matter how much either of them wished it wasn't so.

"Do you know who that statue is?" she said quietly to Aragorn. He nodded as he looked first at the statue, then at her.

"She is Celebrian, Lady of Rivendell. Lord Elrond's wife and your mother," Aragorn replied.

"And do you know why this statue cries? Why you have never met her?"

"Because she was dealt a poisoned wound by orcs, and fled Middle Earth to live in the Undying Lands," Aragorn said swiftly. He remembered Celede crying in front of this statue when he had first met her, and accidentally stumbling upon Lord Elrond doing the same thing a few years later. Celebrian was a painful topic for all of the members of his foster family.

"Yes, Aragorn, my mother is not dead," Arwen said softly, "She is simply living across the sea, in lands where only immortal beings may dwell. That means that when my father leaves for Valinor, and I with him, we will be able to see Celebrian once again."

Aragorn was confused. He knew all this, so why was Arwen repeating it to him?

"You must understand, Aragorn, that I love my mother dearly. I will do anything to see her again. To remain immortal and be able to leave for the Undying Lands."

With a pang, Aragorn comprehended what Arwen was trying to tell him. His heart sank and he looked at the ground.

"And as much as I have grown fond of you, Aragorn, I must grow no fonder. My greatest wish is always to see my mother again."

Aragorn nodded bitterly, for he could see what Arwen was saying. And he loved her enough to only wish for her happiness.

"So if ever you had to decide between your mother and me, you would choose your mother," Aragorn stated bluntly.

"…Yes," Arwen whispered, refusing to look at Aragorn. Aragorn understood, knowing he would probably have made the same decision between Arwen and Gilraen if he had to, but hearing Arwen say her choice out loud still hurt him deeply. He took a deep breath before replying.

"I understand, my Lady," he said. She closed her eyes at his words. Aragorn could have left the courtyard at that point. He _should _have left the courtyard. But something stopped him from walking away. Instead, he moved closer to her, taking her cold hands into his warm ones. She didn't pull away. They stood like that for a while, at peace with each other's company. Then Arwen looked up at Aragorn, and his inhibitions fell away.

Without realizing it, Aragorn was leaning closer to Arwen, close enough to feel her breath on his lips. By the time his mind returned to sense, he was too late to stop himself. His lips brushed against Arwen's, and to his surprise, she didn't pull away, or even freeze. She moved closer to him, deepening the kiss as Aragorn's heart beat faster at her closeness. Her body melded into his as she placed her arms around his neck and he pulled her waist closer to him. Aragorn lost track of all time, so caught up as he was in the kiss.

When Arwen finally broke away from him with a gasp, he realized he was also breathing heavily. He gazed into her eyes for a moment before realizing exactly what he had done. Aragorn immediately let go of her, and the two jumped away from each other.

"That is the very thing I told you we could not do," Arwen said, breathing hard. "Forgive me," he said, "I did not mean to-"

"No," she said, turning back to face him, "It was a lapse on both our parts. Enjoy it this once, for it will not happen again."

With that, Arwen swept gracefully away from him and back into her home, while Aragorn stared unseeingly at the statue of Celebrian, lost in thought and emotion.

ooOOoo

Celede withheld a gasp as she watched Arwen and Aragorn from her balcony. Surely they were not doing what her eyes were seeing; they had only known each other for little more than a month, and, as much as she loved Estel, he was human!

In place of Celede's gasp, however, came a gasp from another balcony, off to Celede's right. Celede tore her eyes away from the scene unfolding below her to find Gilraen also watching the pair from her own balcony. Gilraen hadn't noticed Celede though, riveted as she was on the couple below them. Celede almost felt pity for Aragorn and Arwen; they had thought they were alone and instead they had quite the audience. At least Lord Elrond's quarters were across from Celede and Gilraen, meaning he was not likely to be spying on the pair as well.

Celede was relieved when the two finally jumped away from each other. At least her sister still had some sense left. She watched Arwen walk swiftly back into their dwelling as Aragorn remained in the courtyard, staring at Celebrian's statue. Celede had half a mind to confront her sister then, but she knew that Arwen would be furious with her for spying on her. Although, Celede thought, Arwen could not be mad at her because she hadn't meant to see them together. Celede had simply been on her balcony, thinking about Elladan and Elrohir and her mother, the family that was currently parted from her. It wasn't her fault that Aragorn and Arwen had chosen such a conspicuous place to do a decidedly surreptitious action.

As she prepared to sleep, Celede decided to confront her sister in the morning. She found herself lying on her bed, unable to sleep, for most of the night.

ooOOoo

Gilraen's heart sank as she watched her son take Elrond's daughter into his arms. Elrond had been right; Aragorn needed to leave Rivendell and live with his own people for a while. She would inform Elrond of Aragorn's imminent departure to meet up with Elladan and Elrohir in the morning. Her son could not stay in Rivendell with this Arwen maiden much longer. If Elrond found out, she knew he would be furious. Elrond's children were his pride and joy, and he was loathe to endanger them in any way. She knew Aragorn would not hurt Arwen, but she also knew that if Arwen were to ever choose mortality, Elrond would be crushed. And he would not give up his daughter so easily. Gilraen resolved to talk to Aragorn as soon as she could, and warn him to steer off of the path he was currently treading.

She didn't need to seek Aragorn out, however; _he_ found _her_. She hadn't seen him walk from the courtyard to her chamber, but when he entered and saw her on the balcony, he knew.

"You saw what occurred," he said. It was a statement, not a question.

"I did, my son," Gilraen replied. Aragorn's eyes filled with tears as he sat down on her bed. Her heart softening, Gilraen came and sat beside him, putting a hand to his head to guide him onto her shoulder, something she did often when he was younger and upset.

"It was more than I had ever dreamed it could be, Mother," Aragorn finally said, his voice catching, "I love her, but she is an Elf, and can never love me the same way."

"I know, Aragorn," Gilraen shushed him. She still felt a thrill at being able to call him by his birth name. Elrond and the other Elves had become accustomed to calling him Estel, but Gilraen had named her son and called him by his birth name in the two years she had cared for him before Rivendell. To her, he was always her little Aragorn, and it had been quite a feat on her part to have never slipped and called him Aragorn to his face before he knew the truth.

"And I know you have been told already that your love is forbidden and impossible, so I will only tell you that there will be other women, among your own race, who can love you as you love them," she continued.

Aragorn was silent, but Gilraen knew what he was thinking. Her son was very decisive about some things, and this was one of them. Now that he had feelings for Arwen, he would not be willing to love another woman, simply because that was what he was allowed to do. That had never been Aragorn's way, or Arathorn's, Gilraen thought proudly. She remembered how Arathorn had fought for her, how her own father had been greatly opposed to their union. But there could be no happy ending like that for her son.

"Lord Elrond thought it was time for you to venture out of Rivendell," Gilraen broke the heavy silence, and felt Aragorn stiffen in surprise.

"He knows as well?" he asked dejectedly.

"Not that I know of," Gilraen said quickly, "He told me this before he told you of your lineage. I have been pushing off your departure…until now. I think I cannot keep you cooped up in Rivendell, surrounded by Elves as you have been, for much longer. You need a fresh change, Aragorn. You need to go out and experience the world outside of Rivendell. You would be a great help to our people as well," Gilraen said hastily, seeing Aragorn about to protest, "They need your help."

"To lead them?" Aragorn asked frustratedly.

"No, no," Gilraen amended, "Not yet. To fight for them. To help them live without being in constant fear of orc raids. You can help them, Aragorn, even if you are not yet ready to lead them."

Aragorn was silent for a moment, thinking. But Gilraen knew her son, and she knew that he would help people in need no matter what the cost.

"I will leave in the morning then," he finally said, getting up and walking towards her door.

"So soon?" Gilraen asked, surprised.

"There is nothing left for me here, Mother," Aragorn replied, "Only pain and embarrassment."

With that, Aragorn left his mother's quarters to pack for his departure.

ooOOoo

Elrond could be called many things, such as wise or observant, but certainly never blind or ignorant. Although he may not have seen any distinct evidence that his foster son and his elder daughter were attracted to each other, he found the current circumstances rather suspicious. He was surprised that Aragorn had decided to leave for the North so suddenly, and that Gilraen seemed almost relieved that he was going. That had certainly not been the case a month ago, or even a day ago. Something must have happened overnight to spark such a change.

Looking at his daughters, who also stood beside him to send Aragorn off, Celede had the same expression as Gilraen, worried but also relieved. Arwen, however, looked distressed. She did her best to hide it, but Elrond was her father, and also an unusually wise and observant Elf, so he noticed the way Arwen's eyes jumped to Aragorn, only to glance away completely from him, and then turn back to him. Aragorn, however, was determinedly avoiding Arwen's gaze. Elrond might have said something on the matter, but he decided against it. Aragorn was leaving, and whatever fling Aragorn and Arwen might have had would dissolve quickly in their separation.

Aragorn hugged his mother, whispering words of comfort to Gilraen as she looked to be on the verge of tears now that the moment had finally come. Turning to Elrond, Aragorn gave a slight bow. Elrond nodded in acknowledgement, and gave him the same blessing he had given his sons when they departed. Aragorn inclined his head to Celede, and she nodded, but then took a step forward and embraced him as well. He held her tightly, but theirs was the love of brother and sister, and nothing more.

Finally, Aragorn turned towards Arwen, and the two were forced to make eye contact, albeit stiffly and uncomfortably.

"My lady," Aragorn said quietly. Arwen inclined her head.

"May the Vala protect you, Aragorn, son of Arathorn," Arwen replied.

And that was that. Aragorn did not look back as he mounted his horse and rode out of Rivendell, leaving his childhood home for the first time since he had arrived.

ooOOoo

After Aragorn had departed, the group went back inside, Elrond to his study, Gilraen to her quarters, and Arwen to hers. Celede followed Arwen into her quarters and shut the door behind her. Arwen stared at her sister blankly, confused.

Celede took a deep breath and began.

"You and Estel can never be, Arwen."

Arwen blinked in surprise.

"What are you talking about?"

Celede hesitated.

"I saw you with him last night."

"You what?" Arwen raised her voice angrily.

"I didn't mean to, Arwen. I was on my balcony when you two entered the courtyard," Celede said hastily, "But what is done is done. I cannot forget what I saw. And what I saw is impossible. You are an Elf. He is a Man. You are immortal. He is not."

Even though this was precisely what Arwen had told Aragorn, she suddenly felt the need to defend herself from Celede's words.

"There are ways around that. I can choose mortality."

Now it was Celede's turn to blink in surprise.

"You've known him for a month. Out of the more than two thousand years you've walked this earth, Estel has been in your life for one month. How can you have grown attached to him so quickly, to the point where you would question your own immortality? If you don't sail over the Sea when Father does, you will never see Mother again. You will _die _without ever seeing her again."

"Don't you think I know that? I'm not stupid, Celede," Arwen snapped back, "But my life is my own to do with as I will. Don't you want me to be happy? Wouldn't you rather spend one lifetime of happiness than wander alone for eternity?"

"You cannot be happy with him!" Celede cried.

"And why not?"

"Because he is a Man!"

Arwen gasped, disgusted. Celede winced at her words, but refused to back down.

"You told me he was like a brother to you. Does your racial prejudice allow me to love him as a brother, nothing more? And if so, you are saying I cannot love him in a different way because is he not good enough for me, for the sole reason that he is of a different race?" Arwen asked angrily.

"He will break your heart, Arwen. That's what Men do. They seduce you and draw you in and attack you in the dark," Celede replied bitterly. Arwen bit back a retort. She was beginning to realize that Celede wasn't talking about Aragorn anymore.

"Why would you say that?" Arwen asked, urging her sister to keep talking.

"Because- because…" Celede hesitated, then said in a rush, "Because I was that naïve once, Arwen. I fell in love with a Man and he betrayed me."

Arwen was speechless. Celede's eyes sparkled with tears, and still, all Arwen could do was stare at her sister incredulously. After a tense silence, Celede began to speak again.

"His name was Seon, son of Gurdon, and he was a high ranking soldier of Gondor. I met him when Father held a conference to discuss orc raid patterns. Arwen, if only you had known him. He was so flattering, always giving me gifts of flowers or jewelry trinkets. Whenever I caught him looking at me and smiling, I felt so warm inside."

Arwen did vaguely remember the Man Celede spoke of. He had had wavy brown locks and dark, chocolate eyes. While she had been suspicious of his exaggerated chivalry, Arwen could see how her younger sister might have been attracted to the Man. He had been very handsome, although, in retrospect, Aragorn was a far more handsome Man. Seon had struck her as dishonest, while Aragorn always had honest and good intentions.

"One day, we were sitting by a tree and talking. He had to leave soon, and I told him I would miss him very much. That's when he kissed me, Arwen, and I was so enraptured with him that I thought it meant he really, truly loved me. Elrohir caught us, and Seon ran away. Elrohir was going to tell Father, but I begged and pleaded with him to keep his silence.

I told Elrohir that when Seon left, I wanted to go with him as well. I told Elrohir that I did not wish to be an immortal Elf any longer, if it meant that I would be parted from Seon. Poor Elrohir," Celede grimaced, "He had no idea what to do. So I told him to do nothing, to not tell anyone about my love for Seon. I told Elrohir to fake my death, so I could leave in peace, without Father's search parties chasing me. Elrohir was so angry with me."

Celede took another deep breath and continued, "But Elrohir will always come to your aid whenever you need it most. He agreed to my stupid, stupid plan, which surprised even me. I think he did it because I told him that Seon was who I truly wanted. So when Seon left, I went with him, and Elrohir prepared to cover for me.

Our first night out of Rivendell, there was a heavy storm. Lightning and thunder flashed across the sky like nothing I had ever seen before. Our horses were spooked, and we were soaking wet, so we stopped at the nearest human pub to spend the night and wait out the storm. Arwen, you can feel it, the light of the Valar, your immortality, slipping away from you. It is like ice cold water overwhelms your body, rushing through your veins beginning with your fingertips. I was freezing cold and weak when we entered the pub.

Seon drank a lot that night. I remember telling him to stop it, and pulling him up to our rented room for the night. But by that time, he was already not thinking straight. When I closed the door, he attacked me. He slapped my face and threw me on the bed. When I struggled, he drew out a knife and slashed at me. I dodged as best I could, but he still managed to give me a narrow cut on my head."

Celede began to tremble as she remembered that traumatizing night, but her voice remained as clear and calm as ever.

"I screamed, Arwen. I screamed out loud and through my head to anyone who could hear me. No one in the human pub came to help though, although they most certainly heard me," Celede said bitterly, "They would have allowed Seon to take everything from me that night, if it hadn't been for Elrohir. Our brother had still not been comfortable with the idea of me leaving so suddenly, so he had been on patrol in Rivendell that night. He heard me that night telepathically, against all odds. He even told me later that I was so faint he would not have noticed if he hadn't been listening for me."

Arwen was impressed by her sister's capability. Her sister had been able to reach Elrohir from many miles away. As far as Arwen knew, only Elrond and Galadriel were capable of such long term communication, and only with each other at that. Elrohir, she knew, was gifted with limited foresight, as they all were, so it didn't surprise her that he had been listening for Celede.

"Elrohir rushed to get Elladan, and they both came for me. It took so much energy to send that plea for help that I had gone unconscious. Seon was drunk though, and didn't notice that right away, thank the Vala. He proceeded to tie my wrists and ankles to the four bedposts, which must have taken him quite a while, seeing as he couldn't even walk straight. But when I woke up again, Seon was leering over me, on top of me, and my clothes had been ripped from my body."

Celede shuddered, and Arwen felt herself shaking as well.

"He was so close, Arwen. So close to taking advantage of me and destroying me forever. But at the last possible moment, Elrohir burst through the door. I have never felt such relief as I did then. Seon staggered off the bed and towards Elrohir, who killed him swiftly. He took his long dagger and slit Seon's throat. Then Elrohir came to me. He untied me and helped me into my nightgown, and we left the pub. There was some drunken scuffle going on downstairs, but Elrohir managed to get me out unharmed. Elladan was waiting outside in the storm with the horses and we raced back home. Elrohir held me in front of him on his horse the whole way."

Celede warily watched her sister absorb this news; Arwen looked quite distraught. But Celede's tale was almost finished, and she couldn't stop now.

"When we arrived home, I thought we could sneak back into my room. Father notices everything though. He confronted us as we passed his room. Arwen, I screamed when I saw him. I didn't want him to see me like that. I didn't want him to know. I have never seen Father that hurt or afraid, before or since. And still I cried to Elrohir to make Father leave and let me go to my chambers without him helping me. Father and I act like nothing ever happened, but I can never forget the pain on his face when I cried for him to get away from me."

Celede tried at a weak smile.

"I think that's also the first time I have ever seen Elladan directly go against Father's wishes, but I will always be eternally grateful to him for doing so, and for never asking questions about that night. Besides Elrohir and myself, and now you, no one knows what truly happened that night."

Celede's voice began to crack.

"Now do you see, Arwen? I almost threw my life away, and for what? A drunken man interested only in my body. I should be thankful to him for making his intentions known soon enough for me to renounce my decision and let the light of the Vala flow back into me. Do not make the same mistake I did," Celede implored her sister, tears rolling down her eyes.

Arwen was finally able to unfreeze, as she had been rooted to the same spot throughout Celede's story. She held her sister close, tears coming to her own eyes as Celede cried against Arwen's shoulder.

"He hurt you, I know," Arwen said gently, "But all Men are not like him. You have known Estel since he was but a little boy. Do you really think he would do that to me, to anyone?"

Celede cried harder, but she finally shook her head.

"See? Aragorn is special, Celede. And I promise, if I make a choice, it will be well thought out and not hasty. You are right, a month is too soon to act as I have. I must give myself time before I make a choice."

Arwen paused for a moment, before asking teasingly, "And wouldn't you like to have Aragorn as a brother-in-law?"

Celede laughed once. The two sisters held each other for a time, not saying anything.

Arwen did not tell Celede that she had already told Aragorn her choice because Celede's story had done the opposite of what Celede had intended. Instead of turning Arwen away, Arwen found herself rethinking the decision she had told Aragorn. Celede's tale had made her realize just how special a person Aragorn really was compared to others of his race. Perhaps her choice had been made too soon. Only time would tell. For now, Arwen could only hope that she would have the opportunity to be faced with the same situation and be able to choose again with better judgment. She could only hope that Aragorn wouldn't give up on her quite yet…

_**This is sort of a filler chapter. I'm trying to get to the beginning of the Fellowship ASAP, but I need to set up some things first. Thanks for sticking around, and reviews are much appreciated! :-)  
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	7. The Adventure Begins

_**A/N: I'm back again at last! Hopefully this nice long chapter will make up for the long wait. Thanks to all who review/favorite/follow this story! **_

_**The Fellowship of the Ring was originally going to begin next chapter, but this chapter grew too long, so I'm splitting it into two parts. I thought I'd publish this first part since the next time I update will probably be around Christmas (I seem to only be able to find time to write during long vacations!)  
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Elrond sat behind his study, hands steepled in front of his face, lost in thought. His ring, Vilya, shone brighter than normal, pulsing radiant blue light as if it were alive. A sudden rush of footsteps into his study did not faze Elrond. He kept his eyes closed and made no move of acknowledgement towards the person who had just arrived.

"My lord, the defenses are holding for now. Their numbers are weakening; we will not be defeated this time," a voice said.

"I am aware of that," Elrond said calmly, "A meager army of orcs cannot breach the borders of Rivendell that easily. Imladris is far stronger than you give her credit for, Henduil."

Elrond finally opened his eyes. He could see the faint flush of embarrassment in Henduil's cheeks.

"Nevertheless, my lord, I have taken precautions to ensure the safety of the valley," Henduil continued, "I have sent word to both Mirkwood and Lothlorien requesting assistance."

Elrond sighed. Henduil was a fine captain of the patrol, but he was still too young, and the young were far too impatient these days.

"There was no need," Elrond said tiredly, "And I know that at least Lothlorien is under siege as well. I would not be surprised in the slightest if Mirkwood is also in a similar situation."

Henduil nodded.

"You are correct about Lothlorien," Henduil said, "They have found themselves similarly engaged. Mirkwood, however, has won their battle. The orcs have retreated from Mirkwood, and there is news that those orcs are now heading for Rivendell to aid in the fight against us. But it seems that Lothlorien is facing their siege more poorly than we are." Henduil's face, although he was delivering grave news, was nevertheless triumphant that Rivendell was handling the siege better than Lothlorien. Elrond sighed again.

What Henduil did not know was that Galadriel, Lady of Lothlorien, was specifically weakening her wards to appear as though she was losing. Their hope was that the orcs would continue to attack Lorien if they thought they had a chance of winning, so Galadriel could keep them occupied and destroy more of them while Rivendell and Mirkwood handled their attackers.

That did not, however, mean that Lorien was fighting a losing battle. Galadriel's wards, created through her own ring of power, Nenya, were powerful enough that only Sauron himself had a chance of defeating them. The problem Elrond had been contemplating before Henduil's arrival was not about whether Lothlorien would lose the fight, but why Sauron would start a battle there in the first place. Sauron surely knew that Lothlorien could not be penetrated by mere orcs, so why the battle was even occurring was curious to Elrond. Sauron was not one to waste soldiers in a hopeless battle.

That being said, Sauron was not in any position to come marching into Lothlorien from Mordor himself. Even though Sauron had escaped from Gandalf and the White Council at Dol Goldur, the wizards had left him with no physical body. Elrond had recently heard rumors, however, that Sauron was transforming the huge tower in Mordor known as Barad-dur into a fortress for himself. What he was doing inside was anybody's guess, however. The latest news from Elrond's scouts was that Sauron was transforming his embodiment into the form of a fiery eye atop Barad-dur, although Elrond was tempted to dismiss this thought as simply delusional.

"A Mirkwood contingent is arriving shortly to assist us in fighting off the enemy," Henduil continued, pulling Elrond away from his thoughts again. So Thranduil was honoring his part of the plan, as Elrond had expected he would.

Of the three main Elven havens in Middle Earth, Lothlorien was mutually agreed upon to be the "Heart of Elvendom on Earth", the most important haven of them all. Therefore, both Mirkwood and Rivendell would choose to fall before Lothlorien to save that realm if given the chance.

Elrond focused back on Henduil. The young Elf had finished reporting all that he felt needed to be reported, so Elrond thanked him and dismissed him with a nod.

Elrond found his thoughts wandering away from Sauron and to Lothlorien. Celebrian had always told him that Lothlorien was the most beautiful place on Middle Earth, and she was always right, Elrond thought wryly. Even if it had not been mutually agreed upon, Elrond would still have done everything he could to save Lothlorien. For _her. _

He stood up from his study at last, and walked out onto yet another balcony of Rivendell. As he descended down winding stairs leading to the lower floors of his home, Elrond was lost in memory. The fall breeze stirred up the leaves and birds chirped in recognition of their lord, just as they had when Elrond had first brought Celebrian to Rivendell. His mind wandered back to that long ago day…

"It may be cold now, but Rivendell has its seasons," he had said nervously. If Celebrian found Rivendell to be unfavorable, he didn't know what he would do. He loved her more than anyone else in all of Middle Earth, but he had also presided over Rivendell for hundreds of years before she had come into his life.

"And autumn is not so bad a time," he continued, "There are furnaces inside to keep us warm during this and the winter seasons. I will make sure that you are never wanting for warmth."

He gazed around his little Elven outpost, for it was an outpost of sorts, really. It was located in a valley, unlike in a vast forest like Mirkwood or Lothlorien. While Lothlorien was all sparkles and peace, Rivendell was more rustic. The rivers and trees were always whispering to each other every moment of every day and birds chirped constantly in the trees. As he continued to gaze around his home from the balcony where they stood, Elrond felt increasingly panicked. Celebrian was used to the gentle brilliance of Lothlorien; surely Rivendell must be loathsome to her in comparison.

"The trees don't sparkle as they do in Lothlorien, but I find there is a natural splendor about the land. My craftsworkers carved Rivendell out of the valley itself. Its bridges and balconies all seek to bring you closer to the nature of the valley. I know the river is always rushing, but I find the noise is peaceful and comforting," Elrond paused in his rambling. He never usually became so flustered. After an awkward silence, Elrond had opened his mouth again to comment on the beauty of the birds' songs when Celebrian interrupted him, putting a graceful finger to his lips.

"Elrond, look at me," she said. Elrond slowly turned to look at her, realizing that he had been avoiding her gaze as he had talked. The sight of Celebrian before him never ceased to take his breath away. Her golden hair seemed to shine as it framed her face, her grey eyes sparkling with love and amusement.

"Relax, Elrond," she said softly, "And stop worrying. This place is perfect for us. Rivendell is perfect."

Elrond's sigh of relief was louder than he had intended. Celebrian laughed.

"Well, it isn't the same as Lothlorien, but I suppose it will have to do. Especially since I will be spending the rest of my life here. With you," she finished suggestively.

Elrond smiled. He had done most of his courting in Lothlorien and the surrounding area; they had already been engaged by the time he had brought her to Rivendell for the first time. He didn't know what he would have done if Celebrian had decided she wished to live elsewhere.

But he should have known better. Celebrian would have been content to live in Mordor, as he would have been, if that was what it took to be together.

They had stood for a long time in silence that day, gazing out over what would soon be _their_ home, not just his. Celebrian's wide eyes shone as she absorbed as much as she could of Rivendell. Elrond, for his part, spent the time watching Celebrian, smiling when she smiled at one part of Rivendell or another. As the sun slowly began to sink below the trees, a bitter breeze blew through the balcony they were on, causing Celebrian to shiver and move closer to her fiancé. He instinctively put an arm around her. She grinned up at him and wiggled her eyebrows.

"Though it does seem to get rather cold here at night," she said innocently, causing Elrond to look at her questioningly, "I fully expect you to keep me warm at night throughout these winter months."

It was Elrond's turn to be innocent.

"Of course. Whatever my lady desires," he said, before swiftly scooping her up into his arms. Celebrian gasped in surprise. Then she laughed and tried to break free, but Elrond held her close and she relented, wrapping her arms around his neck and cuddling her head into his shoulder. He had carried her off the balcony and into his bedroom, which had already been fashioned into a room for two. ..

Without realizing it, Elrond found himself gazing up at that same balcony. The curtains that separated the balcony from his chambers fluttered lifelessly in the breeze. He remembered that night, and all the other breathtaking nights he had shared with Celebrian just behind those curtains. They had seen so much love, only to have had it extinguished by a crowd of ruthless orcs.

Elrond's hand tightened into a fist, and Vilya shone more brilliantly. From the gemstone, Elrond could just barely hear the faint screams of orcs as the barrier around Rivendell suddenly grew stronger and threw the closest ones away from the trees like ragdolls. It was the orcs who were fighting a losing battle. Not Rivendell. The orcs had already stolen Celebrian from him. They would never take Rivendell as well, not as long as he lived.

ooOOoo

Even though Elrond had assured Henduil that Rivendell would never be breeched, the battle was lasting longer than he had anticipated. Through winter and into spring, the orcs continued to surround the borders of Rivendell, unrelentlessly searching for an avenue into the realm. Shortly after the orcs from Mirkwood reached Rivendell, Elrond received news that the orcs from Lorien had also been sent to join forces against Rivendell. Sauron _did_ know that he could not win at Lothlorien. He had simply been proving his strength to the Elves, and now, Elrond realized, Sauron meant to finish his display by destroying Rivendell. Elrond didn't think Sauron would be successful, but as a precaution, he wanted to make sure those he cared about most would be safe.

Arwen and Celede entered the library together, having just come from the courtyard. Arwen had been teaching a duet to Celede, and the pair greeted their father smiling and still humming their parts. The duet was a ballad of courage and perseverance, one that Arwen felt was particularly fitting with the ongoing siege of Rivendell. Elrond could not help but smile as he gestured to his daughters to sit on the couch opposite him. They looked at him expectantly as their humming lapsed into silence.

"How fares the siege?" Celede finally asked.

"It remains, and I fear it will remain so for a while yet," Elrond replied, the smile leaving his face.

"How is Gilraen in all of this? I have not visited her for quite some time," Arwen said. As the years of her brothers' and Aragorn's absence droned on, Arwen had found herself missing Aragorn especially. She hadn't known him long, but she yearned to see him again and hear his low, gentle voice whisper in her ear. She had told no one of this longing; Celede believed that Arwen's affection for Aragorn had been a passing fancy, and Arwen had done nothing to dissuade her sister of that notion.

But because of her continued feelings for Aragorn, Arwen had felt that spending time with Gilraen and taking care of her would be a small way of keeping her in Aragorn's favor, if only in her mind's eye. Gilraen, however, seemed to see right through her, and Arwen soon felt uncomfortable being alone with Gilraen. As the years passed, Arwen also noticed that Gilraen was aging, and that only sharpened the internal agony she felt. Aragorn was aging too, and if she did not make a choice soon, her chance would be gone forever. It had been nearly thirty years since Aragorn had left Rivendell. Time had never mattered to her as much as it did now.

"She is lonely," Elrond replied to Arwen's question, "and talks often of leaving Rivendell to return to her people. I cannot allow her to leave with orcs surrounding us, but I have told her that she is free to do so when times become safer."

Celede's eyes revealed her sadness at hearing this, but Arwen bit her lip, angrily reprimanding herself for feeling relief at the news. It was a selfish feeling, but she felt it nonetheless.

"I have no way of knowing when this battle will conclude," Elrond continued, "And I fear that, with their increased numbers, the orcs have the potential to do some damage. Therefore, I am sending both of you away to Lothlorien to ensure your safety."

"What?" Celede gasped, "You cannot do that Father. I won't leave you. Or Rivendell. And besides, didn't you just say that it was too dangerous to leave?"

"You will do as I ask," Elrond said sternly, "And I said that I would not allow _Gilraen_ to leave. She cannot travel as quickly in her old age as she used to be able to. As you can. On horseback, you should be able to cross the Ford of Bruinen and head into the Misty Mountains undetected. From there, your travel to Lorien should remain unimpeded, for all orcs in the region are currently occupied elsewhere," Elrond finished wryly.

"What about you, Father?" Celede demanded, "I suppose you are to remain?"

"Of course," said Elrond, "I am the lord of this realm. It is my duty to see that she remains safe."

"And if Rivendell were to fall?"

"It is not going to fall, Celede."

"Then why are you sending us away?"

"A mere precaution."

Celede frowned, "I think it is far safer inside the walls, Father. Especially if you are so sure that Rivendell will remain secure."

"It would be unwise of me if I did not plan ahead for any events which I have not foreseen."

"Are you saying that because sending us away is the most logical course of action, or because you can't bear it if we are in any sort of danger? We can face any danger that you face, Father. We are not weak-"

"You will not accuse me of caring for my family, Celede," Elrond said sharply. Celede winced and looked down at the ground.

"I lost your mother, and I will not risk losing any more of my kin," Elrond continued, in a softer tone, "It is bad enough that Elrohir and Elladan are roaming the forests in the North, sworn to lay down their lives before the rightful king of Numenor. I will not risk my daughters as well as my sons.

And it is not just my love for you that weighs in this decision. You and your brothers represent the joining of Lothlorien with Rivendell. You are not only princesses and princes in Rivendell but among all the Elves on Middle Earth. Should I or Galadriel become unable to lead our people, the responsibility falls to you. Therefore it is imperative that you live."

"Father, I think we will survive this siege alive and in Rivendell. Leaving does not sound like a wise idea to me," Arwen finally spoke. She couldn't explain why, but she had a bad feeling about leaving Rivendell in the midst of a siege. Elrond blinked in surprise.

"I had anticipated Celede's resistance, but you, Arwen, I had expected to obey me. It does not matter, however, since I have already made my decision. You leave tomorrow evening, under cover of darkness. Pack lightly and sleep well tonight."

Elrond rose, signaling his daughters of their dismissal. Arwen and Celede also rose and proceeded to leave the room. Celede was about to follow her sister out the door when Elrond stopped her.

"Celede, a word," he said softly.

Celede paused. Arwen continued down the hallway. With a barely concealed sigh, Celede turned around.

"Yes, Father?"

"Henduil will be accompanying you. I thought you would be glad to know," Elrond said, "He is a fine Elf, and I am sure he will protect you."

Celede groaned internally. Henduil had continued to court Celede, and she had continued to rebuff his advances since Estel's twentieth birthday so long ago. Elrond must have noticed Henduil's advances; he would have been quite ignorant not to. In allowing Henduil to protect her, he was showing Celede his approval of the match. The only problem was that she didn't approve.

"I'm sure he will, Father," was all Celede could reply.

ooOOoo

Celede did not sleep much that night. She finally got up at sunrise and proceeded to dress in the tunic, tights, short skirt and boots she had always worn when practicing archery or swordplay. Although she had argued with her father, her departure was now inevitable, and Celede could not help but feel excitement towards the journey. She was finally leaving Rivendell in a time of danger, and she looked forward to the adventure. Elladan and Elrohir had scolded her for it thirty years ago, but now it was not her choice to leave Rivendell. What a shame, Celede thought happily as she began to pack.

Celede was packed long before nightfall. She had packed normal provisions but also her bow, her quiver of arrows, and her two Elvish daggers, one long and one short, sheathed beside her quiver. She knocked on Arwen's door and walked in before hearing a response. Arwen was dressed in long, flowing, traditional female riding attire. Her traveling cloak lay beside her on the bed as she rolled up a blanket. She glanced up as Celede entered.

"I did not say you could enter," she said mock sternly, "What if I had been entertaining a man?"

Celede grinned, "Come now, Arwen, at this time of day? Right before your departure? That would be quite foolish, and I have never known you to be foolish. And who would the lucky man be? Aragorn isn't here." Celede wiggled her eyebrows teasingly.

Arwen kept her eyes trained on the blanket as she casually let her dark hair fall in front of her face, hiding her surprise and her blush.

"Why would any man come to my room when they could see my sister half-naked outside?" she said sharply, gesturing at Celede's tight clothing.

"What?" Celede asked, shocked by her sister's cruel response, "This is what I have always worn to fight. I know Henduil has a problem with it, but I had thought that my family would have accepted it by now."

"Just go put on your riding cloak. We will not be seeing any fighting this trip, and the riding cloak will hide everything."

"I have nothing in need of hiding," Celede said angrily. She stormed out of Arwen's quarters and slammed the door behind her. Arwen sighed, regretting her words. She had been too harsh on her sister. Celede did not even suspect anything between her and Aragorn.

By nightfall, Celede still refused to talk to Arwen. They both said their customary farewells to Elrond but remained separate from each other. Celede wore the dark, shimmering blue riding cloak that Arwen had suggested she wear, concealing the warrior uniform she wore beneath it.

"Take care of them, Henduil," Elrond said.

"With my life," Henduil replied. He then signaled to the two other guards accompanying the sisters, and the three of them mounted their horses. Arwen and Celede put the hoods of their cloaks up before mounting their own horses. Then the party of five Elves walked into the forest of Rivendell, vanishing into the night.

The River Bruinen, although violent and rushing along the border of Rivendell, came to rest in a peaceful interlude in what was called the Ford of Bruinen. As the Elves approached the river, Henduil stepped forward first to make sure that the way was safe. The woods on the opposite side of the river were silent and dark, with no sign of movement. Signaling silently by hand, Henduil crossed the river, followed by Arwen, Celede and the two guards at the rear. Shortly after reaching the other side, Celede felt a sudden pressure on her that released almost as soon as she felt it. They had crossed over Elrond's protective wards. Their journey out of Rivendell had officially begun.

ooOOoo

"The Redhorn Pass is not far from here. We are making good time," said Henduil happily as he offered Celede more lembas bread. She politely declined; this was the third time he'd offered her some, and she was already quite full. She looked up at the sky, where some of the stars were blocked by the nearby Misty Mountains that loomed above them. They had been traveling alongside the mountains for some time, but only a few paths would allow them to cross over the mountains. The Redhorn Pass was the place where her mother had been ambushed, and Celede was always nervous whenever she had to travel through it. They had been on the road for five days though, without seeing any signs of orcs.

"I will be grateful once we are on the other side," Arwen said, poking a stick into the campfire they had made for the night. Although the ground was warming, it was still early spring, and the air was cold and brisk around them. Arwen had seemed unusually nervous throughout the journey, jumping at the slightest sounds in the forest.

"There is something wrong in these woods," she said suddenly. Celede frowned, still annoyed with her sister's rebuke back in Rivendell.

"I have sensed nothing."

"Not to worry, my lady," said Henduil cheerfully, "I will protect you and your sister. I'm sure, Celede, that you cannot wait to bathe yourself and change into clean and comfortable clothing once we arrive in Lothlorien."

Celede resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I'm fine, Henduil, really. I am enjoying the journey thus far."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes around the fire. Throughout the duration of their journey, Celede had barely heard a word from the two other guards in their company. They only conferred with Henduil in whispers and otherwise remained behind her or scouted ahead.

"My lady should sleep. We have another long day ahead of us," Henduil said, rising from the fire. He moved to Celede's horse and unpacked her sleeping cloak for her.

"Henduil, that's not necessary," Celede said exasperatedly. Her tone was sharper than she had intended, but Henduil seemed not to notice. He had done this every night thus far.

"It is my pleasure, Lady Celede," Henduil said, pacing around the fire to find the softest patch of ground.

Celede irritatedly stood up to follow Henduil when Arwen grabbed her wrist. She turned to tell Arwen to let go, but when she saw the anxiety in Arwen's face, she froze.

_Sleep lightly tonight,_ Arwen spoke in Celede's mind. _There is something amiss in the forest. Some evil is heading our way. I can feel it._

Celede felt her heart speed up nervously.

"I can watch the first shift," she said out loud.

"Nonsense," Henduil replied, finally placing her cloak down in a small clearing, quite far from the campfire. "You need to be well rested, my lady, for our arduous day tomorrow."

Arwen looked at Celede warningly before releasing her wrist and staring back at the fire.

"I will take first shift," Arwen said quietly. Henduil began to protest, but Arwen put up her hand to silence him.

"No arguments," was all she said. Celede grumbled as she walked to her cloak, wishing she could tell Henduil to stop so easily. Heeding Arwen's words, and perhaps to spite Henduil, Celede picked up her cloak and walked closer to the campfire, choosing a secluded place by a fallen log to lie down and wrap her cloak around her. She quickly entered into the light trance of Elvish sleep.

Arwen curled up beside a large tree and watched the surrounding area warily. Once all of the other Elves had retired, Arwen extinguished the fire with a wave of her hand and a few whispered words of Elvish. She then touched the trunk of the tree beside her and closed her eyes, extending her mind into the accepting tree. Her connection with the tree allowed her to expand her senses outward. The distinct feel of evil in the air heightened her apprehension. Orcs, she realized, with a jolt of terror, were encircling the campsite. They were close, far closer than-_WHACK. _

A thud resounded just above her head and her connection with the tree was suddenly broken. She opened her eyes dizzily and looked up to see an arrow embedded in the tree above her.

"We are under attack!" she cried.

Henduil and the two other Elves leaped to their feet while Celede bolted into a sitting position. She quickly realized her weapons were by her horse, on the other side of the encampment. Henduil cried out and ran towards Celede, one long dagger in each hand. Celede followed his line of sight and turned around to see an orc looming over her with a long, jagged knife. She quickly rolled away as the knife plunged into the earth she had just been lying on.

Jumping to her feet, Celede saw Henduil race past her, decapitate the orc, and turn to attack three more that had appeared in the shadows. Celede ran forwards and yanked the orc's knife out of the ground. As Henduil engaged two of the orcs, Celede rushed the third. It shrieked and raised its knife at her, but she swiftly knocked it aside and instinctively plunged her own knife into its chest. As the orc's black blood began to drip out of its mouth, Celede fought down the bile in her throat and pulled the knife out. The orc slumped to the ground, dead. Celede had never killed before, and now she had ended the life of the orc without a moment's thought or hesitation. She had always been taught to never kill any sort of living creature, and although the orcs may have been exceptions, Celede still felt sick at what she had done.

Frozen in place, she didn't look up to see another orc aiming an arrow at her. When she finally did glance up, it was too late. The arrow fired and she gasped. One of the guard Elves suddenly leaped in front of her, taking the arrow in the shoulder. He fell to the ground with a pained cry, the first sound Celede had ever heard from him, and it wrenched her heart. She looked up again to see the orc nocking another arrow, but the other guard elf nocked his own arrow faster. He aimed with steady hands and released the arrow. After the orc archer was dead, the guard elf ran past Celede to his fallen companion. Celede continued to stand frozen at the sight.

"Celede, move!" Henduil cried to her, "Get to your horse and make for the pass!"

Henduil had never addressed her by name like that before. His voice jolted her back to reality and she turned around. Orcs were flooding the campsite. Arwen had somehow managed to grab her own weapons and was fighting them off as well. The horses were also attacking, trampling as many orcs as they could, rearing and whinnying in anger. As soon as Celede made eye contact with her horse, the animal began to run towards her.

"What about you?" Celede called back to Henduil, finally finding her voice.

"I will be fine. We will try to distract them while you and your sister head for the pass. I promise I will be alright. Go, my lady!"

As her horse flew past her, Celede jumped up and hooked her foot around one of the straps holding her provisions on the horse. Once she was on the horse, Celede grabbed her weapons, slinging her quiver and daggers on her back while grabbing her bow. As she nocked an arrow, she guided her horse back around towards the campsite. An orc was running towards the uninjured guard elf, who was helping his wounded friend mount one of the other horses. Celede aimed and fired the arrow, but her hand shook and the arrow went flying into the orc's ankle instead of his head. His shriek was enough to alert the elf, however, who quickly turned and slammed the side of his dagger into the orc.

By the time Celede entered the campsite, Arwen had also mounted her horse. Celede rushed past as Arwen urged her own horse forward. The pair tore out of the campsite. Celede turned and fired a final arrow behind her, but this one also missed the intended orc's chest and slammed into his arm. She watched Henduil cut the orc down as he mounted his own horse and took off with the other two Elves in the opposite direction. Turning back around, Celede released a sigh of relief. They were going to escape.

Suddenly she heard an arrow whiz by her head, followed by a sudden sharp pain in her calf. Then Arwen shrieked in pain. Celede turned to see an arrow embedded in Arwen's upper back, right above her heart. Arwen lurched forward on her horse, which whinnied in panic and galloped faster into the trees. It was all Celede could do to stay on her own horse as it raced after Arwen. Arrows thudded in the trees around Celede, but she kept her head down and prayed to the Vala that they would lose the orcs soon. Her horse's mane whipped in her face as they fled the arrows that pounded into the nearby trees. Eventually, the hailstorm of arrows became less frequent, and the snarl of orcs faded into the distance. The horses continued to run.

Celede knew Arwen needed to stop as soon as possible, but she also didn't want to stop too soon and risk being attacked again. They needed to keep going, but Arwen seemed to be falling off her horse. Celede urged her horse alongside Arwen's, then swiftly leaped from her horse onto Arwen's horse. She overshot the other horse's back while trying to avoid touching the arrow that still jutted out of Arwen. Celede barely managed to grab onto a rope holding one of Arwen's bags before she slipped onto the horse's other side. Arwen's horse continued to run on, and Celede desperately tried to gain her footing on the ground to push herself back on the horse. The path suddenly narrowed up ahead as a large tree loomed directly in Celede's path.

With a final desperate lunge, Celede pulled herself forward and then kicked off from the ground as the horse ran past. The momentum allowed Celede to pull herself onto the horse just as the tree nicked the horse's side. She wrapped her arms around Arwen, supporting Arwen below the arrow on her left side, and kept her on the horse as it continued to run. Arwen's riding cloak was sticky with blood and her head lolled back onto Celede's shoulder. Blood seeped from one corner of Arwen's lips, and her eyes were closed.

_Come on, Arwen, _Celede thought desperately. _Hang on a little longer. _

But for what, Celede didn't know. It was unlikely that there were any friendly faces nearby to assist them this far from Rivendell and Lothlorien. Arwen did not show any sign of a response, increasing Celede's panic. They needed to stop soon. Arwen couldn't handle the jostling of the horse much longer.

When they finally did stop, the moon was still high in the sky. Celede sat still for many moments on the horse, listening for any suspicious sounds and casting her senses about to see if she could detect the orcs. The sound of crickets chirping finally settled her. They would stop if danger was near.

As she dismounted, Arwen fell towards the ground with her. Celede's legs felt like jelly as she hit the ground and her knees buckled, sending both of them to the ground in a heap. Celede left Arwen lying on her side while she ran to her horse and procured a blanket and bandages. Then she went back to Arwen and gently lifted her up to place the blanket underneath her. Arwen was trembling violently, from cold or something worse, Celede didn't know. She placed the bandages beside Arwen, unable to bind the wound until she did something with the arrow. Celede swiftly drew her shorter dagger and cut Arwen's clothes away from the arrow wound. The skin beneath the arrow was an ugly dark color under the moonlight. Celede could not see much more than that. She bit her lip. A fire would help her see and keep Arwen warm but could attract unwanted attention and take too much time to make. After a brief pause, Celede decided she had to make a fire.

The horses helped her gather tinder, for which she was grateful. In much less time than she had expected, a fire was crackling gently beside them. By now, though, Arwen's breathing had become shallow and labored. Celede examined the wound more closely in the light of the fire. Dark blue tendrils streamed unnaturally outward from the wound. The arrow was likely poisoned. Celede closed her eyes and took deep, slow breaths to calm herself. If she lapsed into an episode now, Arwen would die. She repeated to herself over and over that she wasn't afraid, although she knew she was terrified, but she hoped that worry about family was a different sort of stress than anxious nerves, although she was anxious of ambush as well. _Don't spasm _became a steady mantra in her mind. Fortunately, her body didn't show any signs of unnatural twitching after several moments, so Celede turned back to the task at hand.

Celede had two options now. She could try to remove the arrow or leave it in and try to make it to Lothlorien before Arwen died. She knew that if the arrow had punctured a major blood vessel, leaving the arrow in could act as a stopper for the blood flow. However, if the arrow was poisoned, it needed to be removed as soon as possible. She also didn't know what the tip of the arrow was like. It could be straight or barbed or some other type of arrow tip, and this would affect how she pulled the arrow out.

Perhaps another arrow had embedded itself elsewhere, and she could use it for comparison. Her provisions might have been hit, and then she could figure out what type of arrow the orcs had used. A careful inspection of both horses, however, showed that they had been quite fortunate and completely spared. Celede went back to kneel by Arwen in frustration when she felt a stick jab into her thigh. Surprised, Celede looked down to see an arrow jutting out of her boot, above her ankle. She quickly ripped the boot open.

The arrow had just grazed her calf, a thin line of blood still bled from the shallow wound. Celede pulled the arrow out of the now useless boot. It tugged at the boot and made it quite difficult for Celede to pull it out. She examined the tip carefully in the light of the fire. The arrow seemed straight and smooth, but no simple arrow like that would have required so much force to remove from the boot. When she ran her finger along the arrow from tip to shaft, the arrow seemed perfectly smooth. But then Celede ran her finger the other way and gasped. Something razor sharp and thin had cut open her finger. This strange type of arrow was perfect for entering, but excruciating to remove. What was more, the tip of the arrow was wet with a dark substance. Poisoned.

As if matters couldn't have become worse, Celede faintly sensed a being nearby. Whatever it was, it was still quite far away, but too close for Celede's comfort. Arwen couldn't be moved anymore, however, so Celede would just have to work quickly and hope that whatever was out there would leave them alone.

Celede put her hands around the wound and closed her eyes, directing all her senses into the palm of her hand and into Arwen, just as her father had taught her to do for injured patients so long ago. She felt the weak consciousness that was Arwen hovering faintly at the edges of her mind, and Celede offered what strength she could. Arwen's life grew a little brighter in Celede's mind, but still nowhere near the strength it should have been. Celede also felt the strains of evil coursing out into Arwen's body. It was a dark, pulsating, slippery smoke that nimbly avoided Celede's mind when she tried to force it out of Arwen's system. The arrow itself was an intrusive solid in Arwen's body. It had nicked the major vessel out of the heart, but only just. This meant Celede couldn't push the arrow out of Arwen's other side, as she thought might be less painful given the nature of the arrow. That would only open up Arwen's life vessel even more. Celede had no choice but to remove the arrow the way it came.

With one hand still pressed on Arwen's back around the arrow, Celede grabbed the arrow as close as she could to Arwen's skin. Her eyes remained closed as Celede focused on Arwen's mind.

_I have to remove the arrow now, Arwen. It's going to be painful, but I need you to keep quiet, alright? We aren't safe in these woods yet. _

Arwen gave no sign of acknowledgement. With a sigh, Celede focused on the arrow, took a deep breath, and yanked as hard upwards as she could.

The arrow tore free from Arwen as Arwen let out a bloodcurdling scream in Celede's mind. Celede felt the sound reverberate in her head and nearly passed out from dizziness. She was grateful Arwen had not screamed aloud, but Celede was forced to blink rapidly to try to dispel the black spots in her vision. Her temples throbbed in pain. Placing both hands over the wound now, from which blood was now rapidly coursing out, Celede whispered feverishly in Elvish, shaking her head to try to clear it some more. She spoke every healing phrase and incantation Elrond had ever taught her, along with prayers to the Vala and a few choice swears when the poison slowed down her efforts to heal Arwen.

Celede worked until Arwen's blood vessel had managed to clot itself, with her help, strongly enough to stop the severe blood loss. Arwen was still bleeding from the other broken vessels when Celede promptly passed out from exhaustion.

When she awoke with a start, her hands still pressed over Arwen's back, the sky had turned a lighter gray as daybreak approached. The fire had gone out and Arwen was trembling, but she was still alive. Celede breathed a sigh of relief that her blunder had not caused irreversible harm and quickly looked around for the bandages. They lay on the edge of the blanket, still clean and white. Celede grabbed for the bandages with one bloodied hand. She was a mess, drenched in Arwen's blood, some of which had started to dry and crust on Celede. She quickly removed Arwen's clothing and wrapped the bandages around her torso. They didn't have many bandages, since they hadn't anticipated an attack, and Celede watched the blood quickly begin to seep through the bandages. She went back to Arwen's horse, who was standing resolutely by the edge of the fire, and wrapped Arwen's own supply of bandages around her. Then Celede wrapped Arwen in the few remaining dry blankets they had. She called gently to Arwen's horse, who came to rest next to Arwen, legs folded neatly inwards as it provided warmth to Arwen. Celede's own horse stood watch over the pair lying on the ground.

That done, Celede stood up and prepared to leave the campsite. Arwen needed more help than Celede could provide. If she could find some athelas, she hoped she could impede the poison long enough to get Arwen to Lothlorien. Celede strapped her quiver and knives to her back and grabbed her bow. She wouldn't be caught without a weapon again. Celede hated to be separated from Arwen for any length of time, but she had to find the plant. Celede swiftly ran into the woods without looking back..

As the sun broke across the Misty Mountains, Celede angrily blew her hair away from her face. After two hours of searching, she had found no sign of the little bush. Irritated, she had just decided to return to the campsite when she heard a branch snap nearby. She jumped behind a tree and nocked an arrow. As she listened for whoever was out there, her gaze fell upon a little bush hiding in the undergrowth beside the tree. Athelas. She had accomplished one part of her mission only to have to face another problem. She sensed a presence coming closer and closer to her tree, the same presence she had felt earlier that night. Celede was surprised and a little unnerved at how little noise the creature was making. If she hadn't sensed the presence, she would not have known something was out there.

Finally, when Celede was sure the presence was directly behind the tree, Celede leaped around the tree and drew her bow.

Although she had planned to fire the arrow immediately at the presence, the sight of four hooded figures in front of her instead of the one presence she had sensed came as a surprise. She couldn't stop herself from letting the bowstring go, however, so she quickly jerked the bow up instead, sending the arrow flying just past one of the figures' hoods and embedding it in a nearby tree. The hooded figure yelped and prepared to draw his own dagger from behind his back, when someone quickly yelled, "Stop!"

Celede blinked in surprise. The speaker spoke in Elvish, and she knew that voice.

"Elrohir?"

The lead Elf drew his hood back, revealing an impish grin framed by long dark hair and pointed ears. His smile vanished almost immediately though as Celede ran to him.

"Celede? By the Vala, are you hurt? There's blood everywhere!"

Celede embraced him tightly. She took deep breaths to stop herself from crying in relief.

"I'm fine. It's not me whose been injured. Oh Elrohir, we were attacked. By orcs. We thought we were safe, and then Henduil told me to get away with Arwen. And then-" Celede took a deep breath to calm herself. She was speaking far too quickly.

Elrohir was holding her tightly, and another Elf was rubbing her back. It was Elladan.

"It's not me whose been injured. It's Arwen," Celede finally choked out, pulling away from her brothers, "She was hit with a poisoned arrow in the chest as we were fleeing."

There was a sharp intake of breath and a harsh curse from behind Elrohir. The third figure removed his hood, and Celede couldn't help but stare at him. He had grown so much since she had last seen him. His hair was shoulder-length and straggly, framing a face that had aged into a mature Man, complete with unshaved stubble. His eyes however, were still the soulful blue ones Celede had remembered, only older and more mature. Estel had grown up.

"I was out here searching for athelas, for the poison," Celede said weakly, "Thanks to you, I found a plant just now. Behind the tree."

Elladan and Estel swiftly ran behind the tree. Celede knew she should move to help them, but now that help had arrived, her drive of urgency had disappeared, replaced by exhaustion. Celede felt herself slowly sink to the ground. Elrohir grabbed her arm and gently helped her sit. She knew she was being weak and pitiful, but her head was pounding and try as she might, she had lost the adrenaline that had been keeping her going. With a final soothing pat on her arm, Elrohir left to confer with Elladan, who had harvested the entire plant.

"I don't want to move her now."

"She has to lead us back to camp, Elrohir, I can follow her tracks back to the camp, but I'm sure she took a long route around the camp looking for the athelas."

"That's alright. I can sense her," Estel interjected, "Arwen, I mean. I know where she is. We haven't any time to lose. But she may need more Elvish healing than Elladan can provide on his own. We all need to move, now."

"I won't move Celede. Look at her, she's half-dead."

"Have Legolas watch over her," Estel's voice whispered through the fog in Celede's head. She wasn't sure she'd heard right. Legolas? Legolas was here? Then she realized she had ignored the fourth member of the party. The presence she had sensed earlier was emanating from him.

She looked up at the still hooded figure. He was the one she'd nearly struck with an arrow. As he slowly removed his hood, the light of the sun shone behind him, casting him in an angelic light. Celede thought she'd never seen a more handsome being in her life. His long blonde hair was pulled back from his face by two thin braids and his bright blue eyes were watching her with concern. He broke eye contact with her to interrupt Elrohir's protests.

"Go tend to your sister. I will help Celede return to the camp. Estel's right. Lady Arwen may need all the help she can get, and I am not a healer like you two are."

Elrohir cast one last, worried look at his youngest sister. Her eyes gazed unseeingly into the forest. Then Celede turned her head and looked straight at Elrohir. The vacancy in her eyes had been replaced by the fiery will Elrohir knew and loved. She would be alright. With a final nod to Legolas, the trio ran off into the forest, back to the campsite. Estel quickly took the lead as the trio raced back to Arwen.

Legolas turned back to Celede. He walked over to her and knelt beside her, putting a soothing hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright, my lady," he said gently, "You're safe now. I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

Celede blinked back tears. He sounded so much like Henduil. If Henduil was dead now, it was because he had been protecting Celede, and all she had done in return was shown him irritation for his care.

"My lady?" Legolas asked, alarmed at the water welling up in Celede's eyes.

"Please," Celede whispered, "Just call me Celede."

"As you wish, my-Celede," Legolas said. A jolt, not unentirely unpleasant, coursed down Celede's spine. My Celede. She found herself suddenly hoping that Legolas would repeat his misspoken words, but purposely. Perhaps even…she mentally shook herself. How irrational of her. She had definitely been more traumatized by this experience than she had thought.

Irritated with herself, Celede stood up suddenly, causing a wave of dizziness to overcome her. She almost fell back down to the ground, but Legolas's firm grip on her shoulder kept her upright.

"That was not the best idea," he said.

"Agreed. Shall we return to camp?"

"Are you able to?"

"Of course I am," said Celede impatiently, "I'm not a complete invalid."

The corner of Legolas's lips twitched.

"As you wish," was all he said.

They began to walk slowly back to camp. Celede would have liked to have moved faster, but she just couldn't get her body to move any quicker. Legolas didn't seem to mind, one arm supporting hers as they meandered back to camp.

"So how did you end up with my brothers?" Celede asked in an attempt at conversation.

Legolas shrugged. Even his shrug was lithe and beautiful.

"I was part of the Mirkwood contingent Rivendell requested last winter. I ran into your brothers and Estel by chance. They persuaded me to come with them, saying Rivendell would be fine without me. We traveled down to Lothlorien and found the orcs there had gone to attack Rivendell. That was when Elladan and Elrohir decided it was time to return to Rivendell and help out. We were on our way back to Rivendell when we ran into you, or rather, when you ambushed us and almost impaled me with an arrow."

Celede laughed.

"I am sorry about that," she said sincerely, "But I'm glad our paths crossed when they did,"

"As am I."

They lapsed into silence.

Then Legolas stopped abruptly. Celede looked at him questioningly. He was looking at the ground, however. Celede looked down too and would have blushed if she had the energy to. She had been walking around with one boot on, and Legolas was looking at her bare foot. Like the rest of herself, it was covered in dirt and blood.

"My lady, you are bleeding!' Legolas said concernedly.

"What?" said Celede wearily, "And I thought I told you to call me Celede."

Legolas ignored her and guided her to a fallen tree. Without saying anything, he swiftly put his hands around her waist and hoisted her up onto the log. Celede gasped in surprise, but Legolas only stared intently at Celede's leg. She looked too. The shallow wound had turned an ugly purplish color and was oozing a mixture of red blood and black pus. She had forgotten that the poison on the arrow could have affected her too.

"I thought it was just a shallow cut, and then I forgot about it," she said lamely. It didn't hurt, even when Legolas gently touched the purple area around the wound.

"Still, you will be one of the dead instead of just the walking dead if you leave this unattended," Legolas finally spoke. Celede began to protest, but Legolas scooped her up into his arms and began to carry her through the woods. Although he was breaking all sorts of proprietary rules, Celede's heartbeat quickened at their proximity. He was carrying her as easily as he would a small child, and she now had good reason to wrap her arms around his neck and feel the silken hair beneath her hands.

Legolas scanned the path ahead, following the trail Estel and the others had set to head back to camp. Celede passed the time looking up at him, studying the features of his face intently. His eyebrows were knitted in a serious expression, but the twinkle in his eyes revealed the humorous and caring person she was coming to discover underneath his princely façade.

"I know I'm quite charming and handsome, but having a beautiful maiden stare at me for such a long period of time is especially flattering," he said suddenly, causing Celede to jump and blush. She thought it was probably a good sign that her body was becoming well enough to blush, although this meant she couldn't hide her embarrassment.

"I-uh," she began, but Legolas only laughed. His deep voice reverberated in his chest, and Celede felt the urge to lean in closer to him and feel his muscular chest vibrate with mirth. Which made her blush even more.

"Ah, here we are," Legolas said, gently lowering Celede by the side of a moving stream, "It's not far away from your camp now, but I thought you should try to rinse some of that blood off and clean your wound."

"It's not a wound," said Celede, "More like a scratch."

"If it kills you, does it matter?" Legolas replied mock sternly, "Now I suggest you take care of it. I promised your brothers I would take care of you, and that is what I plan to do."

Celede sighed and obediently waded into the stream. It was colder and deeper than she had expected, but she couldn't help but sigh in delight as the blood and dirt that had been caked all over her washed away in the stream. She leaned over and splashed water on her arms, her face, everywhere she could to cleanse herself. When she finally walked back out of the water, her clothing was still stained red and brown and she was shivering from the cold, but she felt rejuvenated. Legolas had been rummaging through his pack while she washed, and now he returned to her with a dry cloak, some bandages, and athelas. Celede cast her eyes around and found the plant he had taken the leaves from. She wondered how many other plants she had missed during her hasty search earlier that morning. Her panic about Arwen increased and she began to move past Legolas towards the camp. She had to make sure Arwen was alright.

One of Legolas's strong arms caught her around the waist.

"Whoa, where do you think you are going, huh?" he asked.

"Arwen-"

"is going to be fine. And you are not going to be if you keep traipsing around with a poisoned wound. Now sit down," he said sternly. Celede sat with a huff, taking the proffered cloak and draping it around her. It smelled like Legolas, all pine and oak and earth.

"This may sting a bit," Legolas said as he prepared to apply the athelas and some other herb Celede recognized as an herb that fought infection.

Legolas applied the mixture to her leg, and Celede clenched her teeth to avoid gasping in pain. She didn't want to show Legolas any sign of weakness.

"Now look what you've done. It wasn't hurting before you started working on it," Celede muttered. Legolas looked up at her and she forced her jaw to relax. He seemed to see right through her, though.

"Tough maiden," he said nonchalantly as he began to wrap Celede's calf. His hands worked slowly and methodically, so gently that Celede barely felt the knot being tied.

As soon as he was done, though , Celede was on her feet and heading towards the camp.

"You should rest, you know," Legolas said behind her as he walked swiftly to catch up. She was nearly running back to the camp.

"I don't know what you hope to accomplish collapsing at your sister's side," he muttered under his breath as he raced to catch up.

"I heard that!" Celede called back.

This time, Legolas couldn't hold back his grin.

ooOOoo

Arwen was drifting. She vaguely recalled what had happened. An arrow had slammed into her back while she and Celede were fleeing. She hoped Celede was alright. Arwen knew Celede had been by her side, tending to her, but then Celede had suddenly disappeared. If Celede was injured or worse, Arwen didn't know what she would do. She had left Celede without reconciling their argument, which was all her fault, and she needed Celede to live to tell her sister that.

Then a hand, warm and callused, wrapped around hers. She knew that hand, remembered holding that hand so long ago. But that was impossible. He couldn't actually be here.

"My lady Arwen, listen to me. You are safe now. We can take care of you. I will take care of you. But please open your eyes. Wake up, my lady."

The voice confirmed who Arwen thought it was, but still, that was impossible. She must have been hallucinating. Maybe this was how one died.

"Wake up, Arwen," the voice continued to plead with her. Didn't he know that it hurt too much to be conscious in her wounded body? But she could not resist his plea. She couldn't resist anything about Aragorn.

Arwen finally opened her eyes, choking back a sob as she felt the full extent of her injury come slamming full force into her mind. Then she was staring into Aragorn's face, into the bright blue eyes she loved and longed for, and the pain receded a bit.

"You're here," she whispered incredulously, "You are really here."

Aragorn had tears in his eyes.

"Yes, my lady," he whispered back, "And I won't leave you. Everything is going to be alright. I promise."

Arwen closed her eyes again, tightening her grip on Aragorn's hand. He was right. Of course he was. He was Aragorn, after all. Everything was going to be alright.


	8. Her Sister's Choice

_**A/N: Nothing like watching The Hobbit and playing Lego LOTR to get the imagination flowing! I know this chapter seems rather short and mostly filler. It was supposed to be a second half to the previous chapter, but actually ended up being ~10,600 words long, so I decided to break it up as well into two parts. Hahaha. The next half, which is considerably more angsty, will be coming momentarily, and then on to the movies!  
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_**Thanks to all who favorite/follow/review! Happy New Year!  
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Celede picked up another piece of firewood, cradling the bundle she now had with both arms. Satisfied that she had enough for this trip, she weaved her way back to the campsite. They were just a day away from reaching Lothlorien, but Arwen had been feeling poorly this afternoon, so they had agreed to stop for the day and reach Lothlorien tomorrow. Or rather, Aragorn had staunchly refused to allow them to continue.

As Celede picked her way back to the campsite, she looked up upon entering the clearing and almost dropped her bundle of wood. She was shocked at the scene that lay in front of her. Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas had gone hunting for food and more athelas for Arwen. In their absence, Aragorn and Arwen, alone by the meager campfire in desperate need of more wood, were kissing and embracing as if they'd die otherwise. The packs had been propped up behind Arwen so she could sit by the fire without having to hold herself up, and now the pair were leaning heavily against them, Aragorn snuggled on top of Arwen. As Celede watched, Aragorn gently drew a lock of Arwen's hair behind her pointed ear, then cradled her face with both his hands, all the while keeping his lips pressed firmly against hers. One of Arwen's arms was propping her up on the packs, while the other was wound through Aragorn's hair.

Celede's immediate reaction was shock, quickly followed by embarrassment and a slight nausea. That was Estel, her little brother Estel, kissing her older sister. Arwen was kissing him back just as fervently, even though she was more than two thousand years older than he. The moment was so private, so tender, however, that Celede felt like she was an intruding witness to an event she was not supposed to see. Which was the truth, really. She turned around quickly, trying and failing to erase the image of the pair from her head.

Celede thought that the affair between Arwen and Estel had ended thirty years ago, when Estel had first left Rivendell to journey with Elrohir and Elladan. Arwen had never given her any information that suggested otherwise. She knew Estel had been very protective of Arwen since they had met up with him, but she had excused that as worry for a family member. They were all worried about Arwen, even Legolas, who had offered to take watch over Arwen with Celede at night. Even deep inside herself, where Celede may have begun to realize Estel's growing affection for Arwen, Celede's suspicions about Aragorn's feelings for Arwen were quickly dissuaded by the thought that Arwen did not reciprocate his feelings. Clearly, Celede had been very wrong.

Celede silently withdrew from the clearing, still clutching her wood. Then the implications of what she had seen dawned on her in a rush, and Celede dropped her bundle of wood with a gasp.

If Arwen loved Aragorn, what would Arwen do? Would she live out Aragorn's life with him, then continue to live with her family afterwards? Celede doubted that. If Arwen was in love, truly in love, she wouldn't choose to live an immortal life without Aragorn afterwards. If Celede were in that position, she knew she wouldn't want to either. That meant Arwen would choose mortality, and after one mortal life, she would be gone from Celede and the rest of their family forever. Even thinking about that scenario brought a hollow, empty feeling to Celede's heart. Arwen was her only sister, her constant companion and almost motherly figure. For Arwen to be gone forever in less than a century from now was unthinkable, not when compared to the immortality of Celede and her kin.

But what could Celede do? She couldn't demand her sister stop loving Aragorn. She wouldn't do that, even if Arwen would listen to her. Celede could only hope that Arwen would choose immortality and leave Aragorn of her own accord, but even that hope made Celede feel very, very guilty. How could she hope for the unhappiness of Arwen, and even more so Estel, when she had just witnessed their happiness in being with each other? She couldn't. It wasn't her place to. But Celede didn't know how to accept the idea of Arwen and Aragorn without heartache.

Celede felt too numb and confused to cry, and soon found herself wandering aimlessly in the woods. She knew she probably shouldn't be walking alone, but she didn't care at that moment, lost as she was in her thoughts. She soon realized that beneath the sorrow, she felt anger, inexplicable anger at Arwen. Didn't Arwen know the pain she would cause her family? Not just Celede, but Elrohir and Elladan and their father as well. Who was she to choose to make her own family suffer? A selfish, spoiled princess of Rivendell, that's who.

Even though Celede said nothing aloud, she bit her tongue at these thoughts. That wasn't right. She couldn't blame Arwen. Arwen could not be at fault for falling in love. Estel could not be at fault for being human. If anyone, Celede was at fault for being such a single-minded, selfish sister to them. If she couldn't be happy for them because she was wallowing in her own self-pity at losing her sister, then _she_ was the selfish, spoiled princess of Rivendell, not Arwen.

Long ago, when Celede thought she had fallen in love with a human, Seon, she hadn't thought twice about leaving her family for him. She had been naïve and stupid, and if Elrohir hadn't come to her aid that night and saved her from Seon, she didn't know what would have become of her. At least Celede knew Estel. She knew the kind and caring heart Aragorn carried within him wherever he went, and knew that her sister had chosen the Man that best complimented her own loyal and loving character. The only hiccup was that Aragorn was a Man, but as Celede had reasoned before, that was no fault of Aragorn's. He himself couldn't reconcile who he was as heir to Isildur. Celede knew that if Aragorn had the option to become a normal Elf, he would take it immediately. But alas, things did not work that way. Problems could not be solved that easily.

It was then that Celede heard her name being called from nearby. She blinked, clearing her thoughts away, and realized that the sun was now setting. She'd been thinking all afternoon, wandering farther and farther from the camp.

"I'm here," she called back, running towards the voice. Elladan and Elrohir are going to be furious, she thought.

The voice belonged to neither of them, however. Seeing who it was, Celede reached out and grabbed a tree to stop herself from flying into Legolas. He also stumbled to a halt as if he too had been running towards her. They stopped an awkward few feet from the other, but close enough that Celede could see the relief in Legolas's eyes. For a moment, they just looked at each other in silence, unsure of whether to speak or move closer to the other.

"We thought something had happened to you," Legolas finally said, "We returned to camp, but Arwen and Aragorn said they hadn't seen you at all. Then Elladan found a bundle of firewood dropped nearby, and we feared the worst."

Celede almost blushed, trying to think of what to say. _Oh, I was just thinking about the potential love blossoming between Arwen and Aragorn, got a little sidetracked and lost track of the time. No big deal. _

"I…uh…was just thinking about…" Celede stuttered, searching for any sort of believable excuse.

"I was thinking about how lucky I was to be alive after this trip, and I lost track of the time. Forgive me," she finally said in a rush and tried not to wince how lame that sounded.

Legolas's face softened though, and she felt herself relax. He had accepted her excuse.

"Well, you needn't worry about luck saving you from now on," he said, "I'm here now- er, we're all here, I mean. Elladan and Elrohir and I, are all here. Oh, and I suppose Estel too. To protect you. And Arwen as well, of course."

Celede looked at him strangely. Legolas's cheeks tinged red under her gaze.

"Although, you may be testing your luck again wandering off like that," Legolas continued quickly, "There's only so much we can do if you are constantly throwing yourself into danger."

"I am not," Celede protested, inwardly relieved to feel them getting back into their normal playful banter, "I'm not going to stop walking in the woods just because of a potential danger from its potentially fearsome inhabitants. What kind of life would that be like?"

"Oh, I wouldn't know. Perhaps of a normal princess of Rivendell?" Legolas suggested.

Celede rolled her eyes and began walking past Legolas to get back to the campsite.

"Then that would not be a life worth living," she said simply as she passed him. He sounded like Henduil, and the ache in her heart returned. It was almost worse not knowing what had happened to Henduil. She couldn't grieve or rejoice because she didn't know whether he had lived or…not.

ooOOoo

Arwen was a pasty grey color by the time the group arrived in Lothlorien the following evening. Aragorn was near panic, and although Elrohir and Elladan seemed amused by his overwhelming worry, Celede tried hard not to cry because of it. She knew precisely why he was overreacting. Celede and her brothers had all been worried about Arwen, but they had finally reached Lorien and felt confident that Arwen would be healed. Galadriel was perhaps the most powerful Elf in Lothlorien. Aragorn had never been to Lorien, however, and he was also not thinking logically.

An old friend greeted them as they entered the forest of Lothlorien. The Elf's long blonde hair shone brilliantly against his uniform as he emerged smoothly from behind a large tree trunk. He grinned upon recognizing them however, and waved his hand impatiently at the rest of his patrol to signal them to relax the various arrows they had been aiming at the group. Celede was surprised at how hidden the patrol had remained behind Haldir, only noticing the arrows being aimed at her after she caught the movement of them being lowered.

"Haldir! It has been too long!" Elrohir exclaimed.

"Elrohir, Elladan. It has not been long enough," Haldir replied, grasping each of the twin's arms in greeting. His eyes twinkled with mirth, however, as he turned to face Celede.

"Oh, but my lady Celede, this is a welcome surprise indeed," Haldir said to her, opening his arms and bowing slightly. Celede returned the gesture with a polite bow of her head as well.

"I wish we had arrived in better circumstances," Celede said, "But I fear my sister has been gravely injured on our journey here and requires attention as soon as you can spare it."

Her words conveyed their emergency while still retaining the respect to Haldir that Elvish custom dictated she give. Her words did not satisfy Aragorn, however. He had dismounted as well and was standing beside Arwen. Celede's gut twisted upon seeing Arwen leaning heavily against the horse and Aragorn, even though they had reached the end of their journey.

"Immediately, actually," Aragorn interrupted, "Introductions can be made later, but my lady Arwen needs to be tended to now."

Haldir frowned, whether at the situation or at Aragorn's impropriety, Celede did not know.

"Of course," he said. Then he turned to one of the members of his patrol.

"Bring a litter for the Lady Arwen and transport her to my lady Galadriel as quickly as possible," he said.

The other Elves were already moving.

"Yes, my lord. Of course," the Elf Haldir had spoken to replied.

Two Lorien Elves gently pulled Arwen off the horse and lay her on a litter as Aragorn hovered behind them. The litter was constructed of a bright white, sturdy fabric draped around two long poles. One Elf positioned himself in front while another stood in back. Two other Elves helped hoist the poles, carrying Arwen in between, onto the shoulders of the Elves in position. Arwen lay on the fabric securely, her eyes closed, as the two Elves began to run deeper into the woods. Arwen was barely jostled as the two Elves raced along a barely treaded path and were soon out of sight.

"Shouldn't they have taken horses?" Aragorn cried, staring down the path Arwen had been taken.

"We train our horses well, but not well enough to carry a litter as smoothly as we Elves can, Master-" Haldir paused expectantly.

"Ara-" Elrohir began to say when Aragorn did not seem to acknowledge Haldir's question.

"Estel," Aragorn interrupted him, finally turning back to face Haldir.

"I was raised in Rivendell since I was a child by Lord Elrond himself," he continued, answering Haldir's unspoken question of the origins of his Elvish name.

Haldir seemed surprised.

"Indeed. And what would motivate Elrond to raise a Man such as you?"

"My mother came to him for aid," Aragorn replied smoothly. His face was blank and his tone cold, however, which prompted Haldir to end the conversation and mount his horse. Celede, Aragorn, and the other Elves did the same. As Haldir, Elrohir and Elladan brought their horses to a trot to follow Haldir and his patrol, Celede grabbed the mane of Aragorn's horse, keeping him from moving. Legolas glanced back briefly, but seemed to realize Celede's intentions and continued onwards. Celede turned to face Aragorn, refusing to speak until he was looking at her as well.

"Even if Arwen is on her deathbed, which she is far from at the moment, you would do well to watch your tongue," Celede said quietly but fiercely, "You have never been to Lothlorien, Estel. The culture here is much stricter in Elvish formalities than the luxury you grew up in in Rivendell. Do not allow Galadriel's first impression of you to be anything less than the Man you are. That my father taught you to be."

Aragorn simply gave her a curt nod before brushing her hand off his horse and following the rest of the contingent further into Lorien. Celede gave a sigh of frustration as she followed. She did not know how many of her words, if any, Aragorn had chosen to listen to. In any case, Celede had to focus on herself as well. Galadriel may have been her grandmother, but that did not make her any less formidable to Celede. She too could not allow herself to make any mistakes whilst in Lothlorien.

ooOOoo

When Celede finally arrived in her grandparents' home, Galadriel had already left to tend to Arwen. Her grandfather, Celeborn, was there instead to greet her and her other siblings. With a silent nod to Lord Celeborn, Haldir and his patrol vanished back into the woods as quickly as they had appeared.

Celeborn was dressed as finely as Elrond did on his most formal occasions. A silver pattern was woven through his high collar, and he wore a grey cloak over his robes as well. For her part, Celede had never changed out of her warrior dress. She was silently thankful to Arwen for demanding that she bring her long riding cloak to cover herself if necessary. But Celeborn had always been the less formidable grandparent.

"My lord," Elladan, Elrohir, and Celede said in unison. While her brothers bowed, Celede dipped into a gentle curtsy, careful to keep her riding cloak completely around her. Legolas repeated the greeting a moment later, bowing deeply as Celede and her brothers rose.

"Legolas Thranduilion, it is always a pleasure. My daughter's children, welcome," Celeborn replied, "I am glad to see you alive and well after such an ordeal. Your father would not have allowed you out of his sight in such dangerous times had he not thought it to be the considerably better option."

"Does that mean the siege of Rivendell continues?" Celede asked.

"I'm afraid it does," Celeborn said solemnly, "But my Lady has also received word that your father has joined the fight outside the borders of Rivendell. The siege shall end in due time."

All three siblings stiffened at the news. Their father had fought in many great battles long before they were ever born, and yet he was their greatest, most enduring source of comfort in the troubled times they found themselves in. Celede realized that this was the real reason Elrond had sent her and Arwen away; they would not have allowed him to fight directly without their help if they had remained in Rivendell.

Celeborn raised an eyebrow at their reaction, a smile touching his lips.

"Have faith, young ones," he said, "Your father is more than capable of defending his home from a band of meager orcs."

Celede took a deep breath, feeling anxious to hear the answer to her next question. But she needed to know.

"My lord, do you know what became of the others that journeyed with Arwen and me? We were separated not long after leaving Rivendell," she said quickly, dreading the answer. But her fears were quickly assuaged.

"There is no need to worry, Celede. Henduil and the other Elves returned to Rivendell without incident after your separation. One was badly wounded, but Lord Elrond's gift of healing is almost as renowned as my Lady's," Celeborn replied. Celede breathed a sigh of relief. Legolas looked at her oddly, but she ignored him.

"And Father knows we have arrived safely?" Elladan asked.

"Of course," Celeborn replied, a small smile again gracing his features, "Your father has been in constant contact with my lady Galadriel ever since Henduil first crossed back into Rivendell without his daughters."

Celeborn's smile faded, however, as he said, "Lord Elrond was quite worried. I believe he felt, and may still feel, great guilt about sending you into such danger."

Celede knew her father would. To anyone else, Lord Elrond was a calm, wise, and powerful advisor in times of need. To his family, Elrond was a protective, cautious guardian susceptible to the same fear and worry any father felt if his children were in danger. Celede had been annoyed on more than one occasion by this aspect of her father, but after her ordeal with Arwen, she understood her father better. She felt that she could even accept Lord Elrond's protectiveness of her and her siblings without constantly testing his limits.

"But now you may rest and enjoy the delights of Lothlorien. Your ordeal is over," Celeborn continued. He nodded his head slowly, dismissing them. Celede returned the nod along with her brothers, but Legolas bowed deeply once more. Celede had been so engrossed in her conversation with Celeborn that she had almost forgotten Legolas was a part of their company.

"Prince of Mirkwood," Celeborn said to him, "We have much to discuss. I have news which you must bring back to King Thranduil upon your return to Mirkwood."

Celede left them to it. Never before had a bath and a clean dress been so appealing to her.

ooOOoo

As Celede and her siblings had surmised, Arwen was well on her way to a full recovery under the steady healing powers of the Lady Galadriel. She still remained in a deep sleep, however, as her body contributed everything it could to the healing process. When Aragorn looked like he was about to pass out from exhaustion as he sat vigil over her, Celede sent him to get cleaned up and to sleep, promising to call for him when Arwen awakened.

Celede herself kept a constant watch by Arwen's bedside. Her sister slept so peacefully, her expression happy and at peace. This only made Celede more conflicted with herself. She passed the time pondering all the possible outcomes that could occur from the new relationship between her sister and Aragorn. Her thoughts did not bring her any peace, however.

"Forgive me."

Celede jolted out of her thoughts with a start. She quickly looked towards the bed to see Arwen looking back at her. Her eyes were clear and lucid, without any trace of physical pain.

There was a deep sadness in her eyes, however, as she reached out a hand to Celede. Celede grasped it without hesitation.

"You're alive and well, thank the Vala," Celede replied, "There is nothing to forgive."

"I know you saw us," Arwen said quietly. Celede was speechless.

"I thought I heard you returning with wood, and then when Elladan found wood nearby, I knew I was right and you must have fled," Arwen continued. Celede did not look at her sister. Instead, she chose to stare pointedly at the wall above Arwen's head.

"I know you must be angry with me, but it's my life, Celede. You have to understand. I have never felt this kind of love in all the years of my existence. If only you knew what it was like, then you might be able to accept this. As long as Aragorn is alive, I want to be by his side, and I do not want to live any other way."

"So you would make you family suffer," Celede blurted out. Arwen sighed.

"We've had so many wonderful memories, Celede. I will cherish them forever, you know that. And there are still many more to come. But you must understand, Celede, that Aragorn has become a part of me, and I cannot live without him. I will not. When the time comes, I will choose a mortal life, just as Lúthien did. Just as our father's brother Elros chose to do long ago. I never thought it would come to this, Celede, but it has. I love Aragorn with my heart and soul, and while I am sorry for the pain I will cause you and our family with my passing, please accept my choice. For it is my choice, just as it is my life to live."

"There has to be another way," Celede said quietly, "Keep Aragorn in your heart after his passing, Arwen. You can still spend one lifetime with him-"

"And then all the ages of this world alone? No, I do not wish that. And I don't think you do either. I will never be the same person I was before I met Aragorn after his passing."

Celede opened her mouth to speak, but Arwen cut her off.

"No more arguing. You will not change my mind."

Celede's heart felt heavy yet strangely hollow. Hearing Arwen voice her decision made all of Celede's previous conjectures reality, and it felt as if Arwen had physically struck her and knocked her across the room. Celede felt herself breathing too deeply and too quickly, unable to say anything more to Arwen. Arwen's determined look became one of concern.

"Celede-"

But Celede had already risen from her chair and fled out of the room without a backwards glance.

She knocked on Estel's door to wake him, but left before he answered. He would run straight to Arwen, she knew, without needing to hear the news from her.

She fled down the many winding stairs to the base of the tree that housed their rooms. Her white gossamer dress flowed behind her, as did her light blonde hair as she rushed out onto the ground of Lorien. She was barefoot, as the Elves of Lorien preferred to be in their homeland, and she felt the power of the earth beneath her feet as she continued to run, although she had no idea where to. She just wanted to get away from her misery, as far away from the blissful Arwen and Aragorn as she could. She had left her bow and arrows by her horse when they'd arrived, and as she passed by its pen, she paused to retrieve the weapons. She would head to the archery fields not far away. Archery had always brought her peace before.

Her mind was not engaged in her aim, however. The first arrow she fired barely hit the target, and the second one missed completely. These missed arrows only heightened her frustration and anger and her aim became even more erratic. By the sixth arrow that had completely missed its target, Celede simply took the next arrow and threw it onto the ground at her feet. She might have stomped on it as well, had a voice not stopped her.

"I do believe, my lady, the arrow must first be nocked in order to be fired."

Celede closed her eyes. She had come here to be alone, and yet, she found she wouldn't mind the company of the speaker after all.

"I know," she whispered back, turning to face the owner of the voice. It was Legolas. He was walking across the field towards her, hands slightly extended towards her, as if to soothe an agitated horse.

"My heart is not in it," Celede said, turning back to the target and reaching over her shoulder to pull another arrow out of her quiver. She realized then that she was standing in the middle of the archery field in a flowing white gown with a dirt-covered quiver slung behind her and a bow in her hand. Her hair was completely loose, with only a simple silver circlet around her head. She had no idea why she was so self conscious of her appearance all of a sudden, what with all the other more serious problems she was currently facing.

That thought caused her next arrow to fly wide of the target again, and she blushed. She had just completely missed the target in front of one of the most proficient archers in Middle Earth.

"You are too tense," Legolas said, and she jumped. He was right behind her now, close enough for her to feel his warmth through her thin gown. He gently removed another arrow from her quiver and handed it to her.

"Archery requires your full attention to be on the bow, the arrow, the target, and your surroundings. There is no room for any other thoughts," he continued as she nocked the arrow and raised the bow, drawing the string past her cheek.

Legolas put his hands on her shoulders, gently smoothing out the tension in them. Without letting go, he slid his hands down Celede's arms until he had placed his hands over Celede's. His breath was warm in her ear as he whispered to her, "There is nothing else in the world right now, but the arrow being nocked by the bow, about to be released at the target, and subject to the wind between here and there."

Celede took a deep breath, leaning back into Legolas without realizing she was doing so. She felt the wind blow gently against her face, and because she was facing the right, she moved her aim ever slightly to the right to compensate. The tension of the bow felt good, strong and ready to spring into action to launch the arrow to its target. The target itself was sturdy, unaffected by the gentle wind that rustled the grass and leaves beneath her feet. She was acutely aware of Legolas breathing behind her as well, and felt her body posture relax. With another deep breath, she released the arrow, watching it fly past her towards the target.

With a satisfying thud, the arrow collided with the center of the target, and Celede smiled. That one successful hit calmed her more than any of the previous arrows, shot in anger, had done.

Legolas nodded his approval and moved away from her. Celede felt cold without him standing by her. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to sink into his strong, capable arms once more. Blinking in surprise, she shook herself out of those strange feelings. But Legolas had only moved around her so she was facing him. Slowly, she brought her bow down to the ground. Legolas was staring at her intently, bright blue eyes meeting her grey-blue ones.

"My lady," he said quietly.

"I've asked you to call me Celede," she replied.

"My lady Celede," Legolas said with a slight smirk, brushing a strand of loose hair behind Celede's pointed ear. She felt warm shivers glide down her at his touch. They stood that way for some time, neither wishing to be the first to step away. Legolas was so different from Henduil. Although they both refused to call her simply by name, Henduil treated her like a delicate, fragile object in need of his constant protection. Legolas, however, did not hesitate to tease her or guide her in archery. He did not mind that her attire was not always that of a proper maiden. And for that, Celede loved him. When she returned to Rivendell, she would have to tell Henduil the truth. He was a loyal friend, but Celede did not feel for Henduil what he felt for her. What she realized she had begun to feel for Legolas.

Finally, Celede moved away.

"I should probably go and greet the Lady Galadriel," she told him, shaking her head to clear her thoughts, "I have not yet thanked her for her hospitality or her excellent care of Arwen."

"Of course," Legolas said, "I myself came here to practice my archery skills. I can return your arrows to you afterwards."

He did not mention the various locations of those arrows, and for that Celede was grateful.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. She left her bow and quiver of arrows at his feet before turning and walking gracefully back towards the dwellings.

Legolas watched her go. Although all Elves were endowed with extreme grace and beauty, Legolas felt that he had never before seen a maiden as beautiful and noble as the one who was walking away from him. He was afraid to court her however, because of an Elf she had been particularly worried about earlier. Henduil was his name, Legolas recalled. Celede had been desperate to ask Celeborn if Henduil had survived. He must have been a native of Rivendell, which Legolas wasn't, and had therefore been able to win Celede's affection before him.

Frustrated with the situation, Legolas decided to take his own advice and shoot some arrows. His first arrow landed neatly beside Celede's. He had been about to nock another when he heard footsteps behind him.

"My dear brother, it does look as though our beloved little sister has captivated our prince's heart and soul," said Elrohir to Elladan as they approached Legolas.

"She seemed equally enraptured," Elladan replied with a grin, "How soon can we expect a wedding, Legolas?"

Elrohir laughed.

"A wedding! I love weddings!" he exclaimed. Legolas frowned at them both.

"I have no idea what you two are talking about."

Both the twins laughed heartily at this.

"In all the years I have known you, Legolas, you may have been dimwitted at times, but never ignorant," Elrohir said. Legolas wasn't sure whether to take this as an insult or a compliment.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Elladan told him, "Celede is a beautiful and capable young woman. I would like nothing more than to see you two together."

"I am not ignorant," Legolas said indignantly, "I am aware, whether or not you two are, that a certain Henduil of Rivendell has already captured her heart."

Elladan and Elrohir simply stared at him. Then they both burst out laughing again, much to Legolas's indignation.

"He thinks she's in love with Henduil!" Elladan gasped.

"She couldn't be more uncomfortable around him if he was an orc riding a warg!"

"That was a rather harsh analogy, Elrohir, but nothing if not the truth," Elladan snickered.

"My dear prince, I must take back my earlier statement. You are rather ignorant of some things," Elrohir said mock solemnly.

"So she does not have affections for Henduil," Legolas said uncertainly.

"No, no, not at all," said Elladan, "I once watched him give her a bouquet of flowers. It might have been a bouquet of spiders if her face was anything to go by."

"I have never seen a couple so awkward," Elrohir said dreamily, "I was so tempted to help her out, but Elladan persuaded me otherwise."

"You were going to drop frogs into the flowers!"

"Celede couldn't have been any more shocked," Elrohir chuckled.

Legolas broke into the conversation again.

"So…I still have a chance?" he asked hesitantly.

Elrohir looked at him knowingly.

"If your interaction with her just now was anything to go by, I'd say you have more than just a chance," he said with a smile.


	9. The Mirror of Galadriel

_**A/N: Record time between updates! Hoorah! (I know, I know, it was just the second half of a chapter...but still!)  
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_**I'm not entirely sure I like how this came out...but after so many revisions and edits, I decided I might just be making things worse, so here it is! **__** I'd also like to cite arwen-undomiel(.com) for the Elvish.**_

Celede meandered back to the center of Lorien. She had been reluctant to leave Legolas and was even more reluctant to greet Galadriel. But Elvish courtesy was Elvish courtesy, so here she was. That did not mean, however, that she had to rush the inevitable. So she wandered about, taking her time to admire the beauty of Lothlorien.

Celede eventually found a flight of stairs leading downwards, even though she was standing on the ground already. She descended down the stone stairs into a large basin of sorts. She could see the large trees above her sinking their roots down the basin walls and plunging them deeper into the earth beneath her feet.

An archway to the right of the stairs opened up a pathway that led further into the large pit she found herself in, but Celede's gaze was directed away from that path and towards the center of the clearing. A round pedestal covered in vines with shimmering silver flowers stood before her, and on that pedestal lay a wide yet shallow bowl. She had been here before in her visits to Lothlorien. This was the Mirror of Galadriel, an ancient artifact that was rumored to show the viewer the past, present, and future.

"Welcome back to Lothlorien, Celede, daughter of Celebrian," came Galadriel's voice from nearby. Celede had been so entranced by the mirror that she had not noticed her grandmother come down the steps to join her.

"As always, it is a pleasure. Thank you for receiving us," Celede replied politely, bowing her head. Galadriel smiled.

"While you and your other siblings bear a strong resemblance to your father, you alone resemble your mother more than Lord Elrond," she said. Celede frowned slightly. Galadriel always told her this whenever they met, even though the Lady of Lorien was not one to forget the words she spoke to others.

"It is because I cannot help myself," Galadriel replied, somehow knowing Celede's thoughts, "She is my daughter, and your father and siblings are not the only ones to have mourned her passing to the Undying Lands."

Celede had no reply. Once again, she felt the familiar hollow ache in her heart of not being able to mourn and remember her mother as her family did, since she had never known Celebrian.

"Will you look into the mirror?" Galadriel asked her abruptly. Celede was startled.

"Am I ready to look in the mirror?" she asked back. Galadriel smiled.

"That is your choice, not mine," she said. Galadriel had asked Celede the same question the last time she had come to the Mirror. Back then, Celede had chosen to avoid looking. She had had no wish then to see what the mirror had to offer. But this time, Celede thought differently on Galadriel's offer. It was her choice to look, just as it was Arwen's choice to become mortal or not. Perhaps the mirror could tell Celede about the future and ease her mind.

"I will look," Celede replied, surprising herself with how confident she sounded. Galadriel nodded once with a mysterious smile that nonetheless seemed pleased. She walked over to a small pool by the wall of the basin and picked up a jug that stood on the edge of the water. Celede had not noticed this aspect of the basin either. Galadriel gently ran the jug sideways through the pool, filling it with water. Then Galadriel walked over to the empty pan on the pedestal. She poured the water from the jug into the pan, thus creating the mirror. Then she backed away, indicating that Celede could now look into the mirror. With a deep breath, Celede closed her eyes and stepped up to the pedestal. It was not too late yet to change her mind. She could still reconsider.

_But I have made my choice, _she thought decidedly, and opened her eyes.

The mirror reflected her own face back at her for a moment, pale yet determined. Then a ripple caused the water to shudder and images began to form before her eyes.

She was staring at a dark, barren landscape full of jagged outcroppings all covered in dark ash. The clouds above were black and grey, and they covered the sky and sun completely. The only light came from the top of a large volcano, which was spewing black debris along with bright molten lava into the air. As she watched, an army of Men adorned in silver and Elves wearing golden armor entered her field of view, marching into formation together on the plains. Facing them were swarms of orcs who had just as suddenly appeared in large numbers at the base of the mountain. With a jolt, Celede saw her father standing in the front lines of the Elvish army. His face was smudged with dirt, and he wore no helmet like the other Elves did, which was what had drawn Celede's gaze to him in the first place.

"_Tangado haid!" _he cried out, never taking his eyes off the orcs racing towards him. _Hold positions! _

Then a moment later, "_Leithio i philinn!" Release the arrows!_

Instantly, hundreds of arrows flew through the air and slammed into the first line of orcs, felling them. The army of orcs continued to advance, however, charging over the bodies of their dead comrades without hesitation. With harsh metallic clashes and much shrieking, the Elves and orcs collided, and the fighting truly began.

Celede knew of this battle. It was called the Battle of the Last Alliance, since it would be the last time the Elves would fight alongside Men against a common enemy. She knew that even though Elrond and his allies would beat back the orcs, Sauron would arrive on the battlefield just as victory was near. With his powerful golden ring, Sauron would strike and kill Elendil, the High King of Gondor and Arnor. In his rage, Elendil's son Isildur would then try to destroy Sauron, but only manage to cut off the hand that bore the One Ring. The loss of the Ring, however, would be enough to destroy Sauron.

Elrond had told this story to Celede many times, to warn her of the greed of Men. Isildur became the next Ringbearer, and as Celede watched, the mirror brought her into the fires of Mount Doom. Her father was there with Isildur, who was rolling the ring between his fingers lovingly.

"Cast it into the fire!" Elrond shouted. Isildur simply looked at him. Then a malicious gleam entered his eyes.

"Isildur!" Elrond cried desperately, realizing what was about to happen.

"No," Isildur snarled, looking at Elrond defiantly. Then he walked out, admiring the ring he held in his hand. Elrond was left to stand alone in Mount Doom.

The mirror rippled, and the scene changed. Celede felt herself relax, not realizing she had become so tense watching the scene before her.

She was now looking at a place she knew well. It was the entrance to Rivendell. A tall and regal Elf with long dark hair and dark brown robes was ascending the steps alongside an elegant Elf with longer golden hair and a shining silver-white gown. Celede knew who they were instantly, even before they turned around to face the sea of Elves that had gathered at the base of the steps.

Elrond and Celebrian stood in front of the Elves of Rivendell as their new Lord and Lady. They opened their arms to their people in unison, all the while smiling serenely. The crowd of Elves erupted into cheers and singing at the gesture. Celebrian's smile was especially bright and beautiful and full of happiness. Then Elrond and Celebrian looked at each other, and the love that shone between them made Celede's heart ache. Their story had yet to end well.

The mirror rippled again. Celede was surprised to see herself flitting about the many pillars in Rivendell. She was around ten years old, wearing a light blue dress that seemed to float around her as she skipped to and fro. Suddenly, a man dressed in worn grey robes and wearing a large, pointy grey hat appeared through an archway, and the little Celede froze. She had never seen the man before. He had a long grey beard, and his blue eyes twinkled under the wide brim of his hat. He said something in the Common Tongue that Celede had not known as a child but now understood clearly.

"Well, what have we here?" he murmured to himself. When Celede did not respond, the wizard switched to Elvish with a smile.

"Hello little one," he called out jovially to Celede, "You must be the newest addition to Lord Elrond's family."

Celede stood as tall as her ten-year-old height would allow, her head held high above the ground. She still only reached the old man's elbow.

"Lord Elrond is my father," she said as formally as she could, "My name is Celede."

The strange old man chuckled and Celede looked confused. She had done everything the proper way, just as her father had taught her, so why was this strange old man laughing?

"Can you take me to him, little one?" the old man asked, still smiling in amusement. Celede nodded shyly. As she led the man away, he told her, "You may call me Mithrandir."

Celede watched this scene in surprise. Why was the mirror showing her this memory? There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to it. Then, just as Mithrandir was about to disappear behind a pillar, he turned around and looked back at her. His eyes seemed to bore straight through the mirror into the eyes of Celede back in Lorien. Celede was shocked to see the weariness and despair in his gaze. She knew that he had not looked that way back then; the mirror must have been warning her of something yet to come. Celede had never seen Mithrandir look so aged and weak, and it bothered her more than any other image the mirror had shown her as of then.

The scene changed again, and this time she was in an unfamiliar cave, strewn with craggy rocks and boulders. The sound of rushing water echoed in the distance. Then she noticed Bilbo Baggins, the young hobbit who had visited her in Rivendell so long ago with his Dwarf friends, talking to a strange creature. She frowned at the emaciated being; it wore only a loincloth and was bald except for several single strands of hair that hung limply over its head.

Its eyes were what bothered her most, though. Large blue orbs that at times seemed friendly and innocent, and at others, full of malice and evil. Bilbo seemed to excite it, as the creature kept circling around him. At one point it grinned to reveal sharp, crooked teeth, although many were missing.

The mirror rippled again, and the last thing Celede saw in that scene was Bilbo holding a golden ring behind his back. Could that have been the One Ring?

Her reflection stared back at her again for a moment before the mirror began creating images again. Celede took that as a signal that the mirror was now showing her the present.

She was looking at a large river winding its way through green hills, some of which had brightly colored circular doors embedded in them and smoke puffing gently above them from various chimneys. Celede thought that this place had to be the Shire, the home Bilbo had told her so much about.

A little boy hobbit, perhaps about the age of 12, was standing by the river. He had dark curly hair and bright blue eyes that nonetheless gazed solemnly at the river. He was standing alone until another hobbit approached him and put his arm around the boy's shoulders. Celede recognized this hobbit immediately. It was Bilbo, although he had aged from the hobbit she had met in Rivendell.

"I'm so sorry, my boy, but Drogo and Primula are gone," Bilbo said gently, "And you can't live here all by yourself. How about you come and stay with me? I have a nice little hobbit-hole, nothing too fancy, at Bag End in Hobbiton. I daresay you would quite like it there, and I would love to have your company. I live by myself, you see."

The little boy looked up at Bilbo, his face full of sorrow and anguish, and yet he did not cry.

The mirror rippled again, but this time only a figure appeared against the backdrop of the reflection of Lorien behind Celede.

Legolas was dressed in his usual green and brown Mirkwood attire. His back was to her, and Celede could see beneath his long blonde hair the quiver of arrows and the two long daggers he always carried with him. He turned to look at her, his eyes conveying such tenderness and love that Celede's heart reached out to him. She even reached out her hand to touch his reflection in the mirror. As soon as her pointer finger touched the surface of the water, however, Legolas faded away and the scene changed once more amidst the ripples.

She now saw Arwen and Aragorn standing on a mound covered with sun-star flowers called Elanor and small white flowers she recognized as Niphredil. Two rows of trees encircled the mound; the outer circle had trees with white bark, while the inner circle had trees with smooth, silver-grey bark that Celede knew were called Mallorn. Arwen and Aragorn stood in the center. Arwen's shimmering pale-white gown complimented the dark grey of Aragorn's tunic. The mound, Celede realized, was none other than Cerin Amroth, one of the most beautiful places in Lothlorien and all of Middle Earth. She had been there once before, and had never experienced any other place even remotely similar to it before or since. While standing on Cerin Amroth, Celede had heard the sound of the sea and of sea birds calling to each other over the waves, even though she was in the middle of a forest. She had to agree that the serenity in Cerin Amroth was unmatched by any other part of the world, even Rivendell.

As Celede watched, Arwen reached up to her neck and removed the necklace she had been wearing with a gentle tug on the thin chain. The jewel on the necklace had a brightly inlaid centerpiece with silver metal swirled craftily outwards from the center, forming a butterfly design that was encircled by other strands of metal, all of which wove together before tapering away to create a point at the base of the jewel. Celede's hand went instinctively to her chest, grasping the identical Evenstar jewel she also wore around her neck.

The Evenstar was a sort of betrothal stone for Celede and Arwen. They would wear it themselves until they chose to give it to the man they would marry, plighting their troth with the token of their love. According to the mirror, Arwen and Aragorn were or were soon to be betrothed by the gift Arwen was bestowing on Aragorn.

Celede's throat tightened nervously and she tried to look away from the mirror. She did not want to witness this most intimate of moments that would take her sister away from her forever. She even tried to step away from the pedestal, but she found that she could not move. Celede was forced to continue to gaze into the mirror as the images began to flash by at a faster pace.

She saw a little boy with solemn eyes and dark wavy hair run to an older Aragorn, who laughed as he picked up the boy and spun him around in a circle above his head. The boy was laughing as well until he looked up and solemnly stared at Celede outside of the scene, just as Mithrandir had done earlier. The mirror shuddered again, revealing a vastly different image.

She was staring at a large fiery eye staring out from the top of a tall dark tower near Mount Doom. The volcano stood in the background, still spewing ash and lava into the air. Celede knew the eye could only belong to Sauron, as a sort of reincarnation of him. The mirror suddenly flew up the tower and into the pupil of Sauron's eye, where another image was emerging from the deep blackness of the pupil. Celede saw Arwen lying limply on a cot, shrouded in darkness. Her eyes were closed, and Celede could not tell if she was alive. Then the Evenstar slipped from Arwen's hand and crashed into the ground below her bed, shattering into a million shards.

With a sudden blast of light, the darkness retreated fully and Arwen opened her eyes. Celede saw Arwen smile before her sister was overwhelmed by the light and all Celede could see was blinding white.

The silhouette of a new figure began to emerge from the light as if from a fog. This figure, however, in direct contrast to the vision of Arwen, was dark against the white that surrounded it. The figure was thrashing about, hands clutched to its throat as if it couldn't breathe. Celede could not make out who the figure was. She supposed it was twisting and turning in a way similar to herself when she spasmed, but this figure seemed to still have some control of its limbs as it was clutching its throat. Black tendrils were spewing from its mouth, nose, eyes, and ears, and as more blackness left the figure to stain the white surroundings, the figure became lighter and clearer. Celede still couldn't see who it was though, and she found herself leaning closer into the mirror to try to get a better view.

With one final harsh jerk, the figure went still, head drooping limply to the ground. The black stream emanating from the figure ebbed and Celede could now see clearly who it was. A silvery glowing Elven maiden lay across a bed of dark, putrid grey.

The maiden had long, light blonde hair and although she was clearly female, she was dressed in a simple tunic, short skirt, leggings and boots.

Celede was looking at herself.

With a cry, Celede finally tore herself away from the mirror. She stumbled backwards, lost her footing, and fell onto the earth beneath her. The sudden movement brought her rushing back to the present.

Galadriel stood before her, watching her sympathetically. There was no shock in her expression, only defeated acceptance.

_ I know what it is you saw, _Galadriel spoke in Celede's mind. _And I am sorry that you have seen it._

_ What-what does it mean? _Celede stuttered. _Sauron's eye. Arwen and me. That's the future? Arwen and I are both doomed to die?_

_ Not both of you, _Galadriel replied. Celede rose to her feet unsteadily. She reached out to the pedestal to support her, but even seeing the rim of the mirror brought waves of fear and nausea rushing through her again. She quickly turned around, clutching the stone pedestal behind her for support. She was now also facing away from Galadriel, which she thought was probably for the best since she knew she was trembling and nearly in tears.

Galadriel's statement forced Celede to think back to the images the mirror had shown her, although she wished with all her heart that she could forget them.

In the mirror, Arwen had been lying comatose as the darkness of Sauron grew around her. She had only opened her eyes when the bright light had overwhelmed Sauron.

_So Arwen's fate is tied to Sauron's, _Celede deduced. _She will die if Sauron is not destroyed._

Galadriel gave a single, slow nod of her head.

_That is what I have also seen. Her fate will become linked to Sauron's when she chooses a mortal life in so dark a time._

_But…my fate is also tied to Sauron's, _Celede continued slowly, painfully remembering the last image the mirror had shown her. A thought occurred to her then, so twisted and dark that she prayed to the Vala she was mistaken. Celede had to take several deep breaths before she could even voice the thought to Galadriel.

_Only it's the other way around. I will not-I will not be able to live if Sauron dies. _

_ That is what I have seen. _Galadriel said simply, her words crushing all of Celede's hopes that she was wrong.

_I believe that to be because of the evil that poisoned you before your birth, _Galadriel finished. _It is a dark witchcraft that cannot be undone in these lands. I have searched far and wide across Middle Earth for a cure, Celede, but to no avail. At one point, the wizard Radagast was able to cure his animal friends of the terrible curse, but it affected his creatures differently than it affects you. _

_His animals died when it overwhelmed their bodies, but they could still be cured. You, however, will never be overwhelmed by it. The price for being spared that fate is that you cannot be cured of the evil within you either. You must have been spared death because you were not directly injected with the poison. It flowed into you from your mother._

Galadriel paused for a pained moment. _That is why Celebrian left so suddenly. Elrond never completely removed the evil from Celebrian, even though he thought he had, and Radagast's cure had not been realized then. The poison infected her brain, tortured her until she could only think of leaving Middle Earth to escape from the evil that haunted her. And I had to make her leave with enough time to reach Valinor alive. _

_ You knew all of this? _Celede demanded, suddenly hurt and angry that Galadriel had kept her completely ignorant of the true effect of the poison flowing in her veins. _And you never told me?_

_I had my conjectures. The images the mirror showed you just now have finally confirmed my suspicions. _Galadriel's voice was a mere whisper in Celede's mind, but the pain behind her words was evident. Celede softened slightly. Galadriel was as saddened by the images she'd seen in the mirror as Celede was, perhaps even more so.

_ You said the witchcraft cannot be undone in these lands, _Celede repeated, a sudden idea forming in her head. _So if I leave for the Undying Lands, I will be cured?_

Galadriel thought for a moment. _I do not know for certain, but I believe that to be true. I feel in my heart that Celebrian is still alive, and she could only be alive right now if the lands of Valinor had cured her._ Celede's heart leaped. There was still hope for her after all.

_However, _Galadriel cautioned her, _you would have to arrive in Valinor before Sauron is defeated. His evil will remain bound to you even as you sail across the sea._

For a brief, blissful moment, Celede rejoiced inside herself. She could leave as soon as possible, and everything would be alright.

Then, just as suddenly, her heart sank. The reality of this new knowledge finally sank in. With a heavy heart, Celede realized her fate was sealed. She had seen the love between Aragorn and Arwen, a love that she knew would grow to be as strong as the bond between her parents. She had seen the little heir to the throne of Gondor, and the love and happiness he would give Aragorn and undoubtedly Arwen as well. She had seen that Arwen would die if Sauron was not destroyed, which would devastate Aragorn and the rest of their family, and also prevent Arwen's son from ever being born. If Aragorn did not have an heir, Gondor would not have a king after Aragorn's passing, and then what would happen to the world of Men? Arwen's death could potentially destroy mankind, and as a result, all of Middle Earth as well.

That, of course, could not be allowed to happen. Sauron would have to be destroyed at any cost because Arwen's life had suddenly become vital to the survival of Middle Earth. And since she knew all this now, Celede felt obligated to do everything in her power to ensure that Sauron would be destroyed. For the sake of her friends and family, and perhaps many more, Celede realized she had to remain on Middle Earth to ensure Sauron's defeat. She could not leave for Valinor while Arwen's life was in jeopardy, even though the price for securing Arwen's life would mean Celede's own death.

Because what was Celede's life worth in comparison to Arwen's? Celede had seen the present already, even without the mirror's visions. Aragorn and Arwen were already in love. Their story had already begun. She and Legolas-

Her heart wrenched in her chest. Celede was forced to admit to herself that she and Legolas had nothing yet. A few smiles, gentle touches, and idle chatter did not constitute a bond of love. And, she realized with a sinking feeling, she could not love and be with Legolas only to leave him heartbroken and alone in a few short decades. She absolutely refused to willingly cause Legolas the pain she had watched her father endure after her mother's departure. She knew that the pain she would cause Legolas would also, if anything, be even greater than her father's. Elrond still had hope that he would be with Celebrian again in Valinor, whereas Celede would be forever dead in the Halls of Mandos.

With a heavy heart, Celede realized that for Legolas's sake, she had to permanently end any sort of relationship they may have been forming. This thought finally caused tears to spark in her eyes. The bards and storytellers were right; one never knew what one truly had until they had lost it forever. She had promised herself foolishly once that she would never love again, and now she realized she would continue to bind herself to that oath, but for an entirely different reason. That promise had been made long ago to keep herself from being hurt, but now Celede would stand by her vow to prevent the Elf she loved from feeling such pain.

_Celede- _Galadriel said softly and sympathetically.

_Does anyone else know of this? _Celede interrupted.

_Your father. I could see what the mirror showed you, and I thought it best to allow your father to see it as well. Forgive me, I did not know what the mirror would show you. If you did not want your father to see it-_

_ No, _Celede thought, only vaguely aware of the impropriety of interrupting the Lady of Lorien twice in a row.

If given the choice, Celede would have allowed no one to know what she had seen, but now she felt strangely heartened by the fact that her father knew of her fate. As tears rolled down her cheeks, she found herself craving the support of someone else who would know the reason for her suffering, someone who was not as mysterious and forbidding as Galadriel. Celede had already resolved to tell no one else of what she had seen. She would not allow anyone to pity her or grieve along with her as long as she lived. But now that Elrond already knew…

"I wish to return to Rivendell," Celede said quietly, but out loud.

"The siege is not over, Celede. It is not safe for you," Galadriel replied gently. Celede laughed bitterly.

"My life is already forfeit, Lady Galadriel," she said softly, "Why should it matter whether I die now or later?"

"Because you can still change the course of the world," Galadriel replied forcefully. She walked around the pedestal and faced Celede, her eyes boring into her granddaughter's.

"Do not let your death be in vain," Galadriel said sternly, "If you are willing to sacrifice your life to free the people of Middle Earth from Sauron, then at least devote your life to destroying that evil. Ensure that in your stead others will live and flourish. Do not wallow in self-pity and give up on your life. Do not cast your life aside as if it means nothing anymore. Your father would not want that, nor I, and especially not your mother."

Galadriel's words stung, but Celede realized through her numbness that Galadriel was encouraging her to keep her will to live even after looking into the mirror. And although she may have hated it, Celede would rise to the occasion. She would live out the rest of her days doing everything she could to destroy Sauron, so others could live. So Arwen and Aragorn could have a life together, and Middle Earth would have a future.

"I still must return to Rivendell," Celede said again. Galadriel said nothing.

"Please," Celede pleaded, "I cannot bear this burden alone. I must see my father."

Galadriel sighed, all of her previous strength diminished into a sudden weariness. Although Galadriel looked as young as ever, her eyes betrayed the weight of all the years she had lived and all the burdens she carried as one of the few beings in Middle Earth gifted with the power of foresight.

"Very well," Galadriel finally spoke, "I will have your brothers, Haldir, and the finest of his patrol return with you to Rivendell."

Celede sighed in relief, feeling truly grateful to Galadriel. She hastily wiped the tears off her cheeks and had begun to walk up the steps away from the dreaded mirror when Galadriel's voice spoke to her once more.

_Whatever else you may do, Celede, no matter how hopeless it seems, do not despair. Fight with everything you have to stay alive. Do not assume that what the mirror has foretold will come to pass. The future is not set in stone. Remember that. _

ooOOoo

As Celede was walking back to her chambers, she heard Legolas call her name. She flinched at the sound of his voice and turned around. Legolas had been smiling widely, but upon noticing her flinch, his smile faded.

"My lady, I have brought your bow and arrows, as promised," he said gently. His look of concern almost brought tears to Celede's eyes again, but she blinked them away angrily. She had made her choice, and now it was time for her carry it out.

"Are you alright, my lady? You seem very pale," Legolas said to her. With a deep breath, Celede stiffened her shoulders and raised her chin, just as she had done as a little girl to Mithrandir long ago. Only now, she hoped she achieved the desired effect.

"I am leaving for Rivendell as soon as possible," she told him, "It was a mistake to come to Lothlorien."

"Well then, I shall join you," Legolas said immediately, "We wouldn't want your life left up to luck again, now would we?"

Celede felt hollow inside. She wanted to tell him she would have liked nothing more than to have him by her side, but she couldn't.

"I will be traveling with my brothers and Haldir. No danger will come to me, even if you are not there. Besides, you are returning to Mirkwood," she said, trying to change the direction of the conversation. Legolas did not follow her lead.

"Truly, my lady, I do not mind detouring. I have something I wish to ask your father anyway," Legolas replied, unable to hold back a smile. Perhaps he meant to ask Lord Elrond for permission to court Celede. Celede felt tears threatening yet again behind her eyes.

"Legolas, forgive me. I have not been clear with you," Celede forced herself to speak loudly and clearly, without any trace of the despair she felt, even as her throat began to close up with pain.

"You need to understand that I-I do not have any sort of affection towards you other than a cordial acquaintance," she choked out, "I'm sorry if I have not been clear with you, but I must tell you now that I have never-and will never-" her voice hitched and she could only whisper the next words, "love you."

As long as she defined love as the bond shared by her parents, Celede told herself that she was not lying to Legolas. They had not shared that bond, and now they never would.

Legolas stared at her for a long moment. Celede refused to meet his gaze, but when he continued to say nothing, she finally forced herself to look at him. His eyes were full of tenderness and love, just as they had been in the mirror, although now they were also laced with concern. _He must think I'm going crazy, _Celede thought sadly. _Perhaps he's right._

"I do not believe you," Legolas said finally. Celede frowned in surprise. She had not been expecting that reply.

"What is it that is bothering you so?" he continued, "What is responsible for your sudden change of heart? You can confide in me, my lady."

So Celede had not been convincing enough. She could not bring herself to tell Legolas the truth, however, so she ended things between them for good in the only way she knew how, although she hated herself for doing it.

"How could you possibly know my feelings?" she asked him, trying to sound as angry as she could. She poured all of the hatred she felt for herself into her words. "How dare you suggest I love you? Are you really that conceited a person, thinking that every maiden who lays eyes upon you falls in love with you?"

Legolas flinched at her words, but she couldn't stop now. If only he knew the pain she was causing herself as well to say these things…but it was for his own good. He could handle a little pain now in order to move on and prevent the heartbreaking agony he would feel if he stayed with her.

"I hope I am being perfectly clear when I say that I do not wish to pursue any sort of affectionate relationship with you under any circumstances whatsoever," she continued coldly, "You are, quite simply, not the right match for me."

_Because I am fated to die, _she thought silently to herself. Legolas was visibly stung by her words, and although Celede was sobbing inside herself, she refused to let any trace of her inner turmoil reveal itself to Legolas.

"Very-very well, my lady," Legolas stumbled over his words, "As you wish."

There was a slight pause then, but Celede's throat had completely closed up and she could not trust herself to speak without crying.

"I should let you pack for your return journey then, as I must also prepare to leave for Mirkwood. Until we meet again?" he said at last.

Celede nodded in acknowledgement but did not reply. She simply turned and focused on walking, not running, away from him. Then, so softly that even her Elvish ears almost missed it, she heard him say one last thing. His voice was so dejected and miserable that Celede began crying in earnest as she fled.

"Dan le melin."

_But_ _I love you. _

ooOOoo

The voyage back to Rivendell was uneventful. Elladan and Elrohir joked and laughed with Haldir and Celede, as they were wont to do. She tried to do the same, but her heart was not in it. When the twins realized something was wrong, they tried to cheer Celede up. Their antics only made her want to cry more, however, so she forced herself to laugh and smile more convincingly. Elladan and Elrohir were still suspicious, however, and kept shooting worried glances at each other when they thought Celede wasn't looking.

When they finally arrived in Rivendell, Elrond was still engaged in battle outside the borders. Henduil greeted them instead, telling them that the siege was indeed ending, and Lord Elrond was returning with haste now that the major fighting was over. Elladan and Elrohir rejoiced at the news and went off to organize a feast for Rivendell's well-deserved victory. This left Celede and Henduil alone, and she seized upon the chance to turn him away from courting her as well. She found it was much easier to tell Henduil than it had been to tell Legolas.

"I am glad you were able to return safely to Rivendell after our attack," she said, initiating the conversation, "Your quick thinking saved all of our lives, and for that, I am eternally grateful."

"I deeply regret not being able to assist you more, my lady," Henduil immediately replied, "And especially after I heard of your sister's injury. I take it she is all right?"

"She is," Celede said, "She will be returning to Rivendell shortly, after she is fully recovered from her wound."

"But you returned sooner," Henduil said lovingly, and Celede shifted uncomfortably.

"Brave maiden," he continued, and reached to take her hand. Celede swiftly drew her hands behind her back. Henduil raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Henduil, forgive me for not voicing my feelings sooner, but I do not share in your affections. I ask that you stop your courting of me, for I cannot reciprocate your love," Celede said quickly.

Henduil's face instantly became devoid of expression. After a long moment of silence, Celede began to speak, but Henduil interrupted her.

"Henduil, I'm-"

"No, my lady. It is I who pushed too quickly for your love, without even considering what you felt. I was blinded by your beauty and tender heart, but I realize now that I never stopped to think about your feelings towards me. It is I who should apologize to you."

"Let's just put this all behind us, please," Celede replied. She didn't think she could stand talking about love for much longer before she cracked under the strain of acting normal.

"As you wish, my lady. But please know that I shall always remain your dutiful servant," Henduil said with a slight bow.

"Thank you, Henduil. You are most loyal," Celede replied. To her relief, Henduil walked away to the stables after that, not looking particularly heartbroken at her rejection of him.

Celede decided to wait for her father at the top of the stairs in front of the entrance to Rivendell. Standing there, however, brought back unbidden the image in the mirror of her parents standing where she stood, their future shining before them. Only now her future was crashing down around her.

Celede had chosen to wear long, flowing, female riding clothes for her return to Rivendell since she had not been able to put on the garments she had seen herself die in. She did not even take the time to change now, remaining in her riding clothes as she waited for her father's impending arrival. The birds sang in the trees as the river rushed beneath her, and the wind blew gently beside its companions down the valley. Summer was coming to Rivendell, and life was flourishing all around her, blooming and looking expectantly towards the future. The new life made her feel strangely out of place, as she had never felt before in her home.

By late afternoon, the sound of horses' hooves racing along a stone bridge finally reached Celede's ears, and she turned to see her father come riding in with the other Elves who had fought alongside him. He wore a tunic of dark woven armor strapped tightly around his slim figure, and Elvish robes underneath. A long dark cape flowed behind him and his hands were clothed in strong, sturdy gloves. He wore a simple circlet around his forehead of the same burnished, dark brown color as the rest of his attire. Celede had never seen him look so formidable or so comforting to her at that moment. Her father was strong and wise; he would be there to guide her no matter what fate lurked in her future.

As the rest of his army headed for the stables, Elrond instantly spotted Celede at the top of the stairs. His piercing warrior gaze softened immediately, and he dismounted, allowing another Elf to take his horse away. Celede ran down the stairs to him, tears falling uncontrollably down her face, as he walked swiftly towards her. They met at the bottom, and Celede threw herself into his arms. His armor was stiff and bulky, even though it was of Elvish design, but Celede didn't care. She clung to him desperately as he held her just as tightly in his arms. His warmth and the comfort of being held by him overwhelmed the barriers Celede had forced up around her emotions ever since she had looked into the Mirror of Galadriel.

Celede sobbed into her father's shoulder as he gently stroked her hair and murmured soothing words to her. Still, she continued to pour all of her pent-up emotions into her tears as she cried for what seemed like eternity, oblivious to the world around her. Her father made no move to push her away. When Celede had finally exhausted herself of tears, the sun had begun to set over the valley. She pulled away from her father just enough to look up into his face, and saw that silent tears were also rolling down his cheeks. Galadriel must have told him already that Celede would be remaining in Middle Earth. Elrond knew, then, that he was going to lose one of his daughters. When he saw her watching him, he gently smoothed back a loose strand of her hair and somehow managed to smile encouragingly.

_Better? Let us put our grief behind us then. After all, now is not to the time to mourn. You are alive today, and will be tomorrow and the day after. There are still many paths that the future may take. There is always hope._

He spoke these thoughts into her mind, something he rarely did.

"Yes, Ada," _Father._ Celede agreed aloud, her tears and despair finally exhausted. As the sun finally set over the treetops, Celede felt her heart lift as she never thought it would again.

"There is always hope."

_**A/N: Yeah. I know, right? After I got so many lovely reviews (thank you all, btw) about how great Celede and Legolas getting together was, I throw this at you. What can I say? Life throws curve balls. :-) I don't think this would be much of a story if they just got together, joined the Fellowship to save ME, and then lived happily ever after. **_

_**If that still doesn't make you happy, just know I have this entire story mapped out. There is a method to the madness, and I know exactly what is going to happen. Just ride the waves with me. We'll make it to the end, I promise! Thanks again to all who read, favorite, and especially review!  
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	10. The Hobbits Arrive

**A/N: Moving right along...**** I actually really enjoyed this chapter, both writing-wise and reading-wise. I also toyed a bit with changing perspectives, which was quite fun.  
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**As always, let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!  
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A sudden clap of thunder jolted Celede out of her sleep. It was the middle of the night, and warm as she was in her bed, she shivered upon hearing the rain and wind whistling fiercely outside. Then, to her surprise, her keen Elvish hearing picked up the sound of footsteps passing by her room. Celede quickly pulled the covers away and stepped out of bed, creeping barefoot towards her wardrobe. She put a simple sheath over her nightgown and shrugged on a dark cloak for warmth. She had slept with her hair in a long single braid, and by now much of it had come loose, but she paid it no attention as she rushed out her door and down the stairs.

The halls were silent as she passed down a flight of stone steps to the lower levels. Her feet were still bare, and the stone felt cold and smooth underneath her. She saw candlelight emanating from the library, and she made her way towards it, careful to tread as quietly as she could across the hallway.

These rainy nights always reminded Celede of the nights she had spent with Estel when he was little, comforting him as the lighting cracked and thunder shook the house from outside. Gilraen had sung songs of the Dunedain to Estel, some cheerful and fun but some slow and sad as well. Whichever they were though, they had nonetheless kept Estel's attention away from the storm raging outside.

Four years after Celede had returned from Lothlorien, Gilraen said farewell to Rivendell, choosing to live out the rest of her days with her people. That had been the last time Celede saw her. Elladan and Elrohir had brought news of her passing to Celede and her father just over a decade ago. The loss had greatly saddened Celede, who had been very fond of Aragorn's mother. Gilraen's death also reminded her of the impending deaths of herself and Arwen someday in the future. She was determined, however, not to waste her little time remaining in this world wallowing in self pity.

Another flash of lightning lit up the hall as Celede quietly sidled up to the library door and peered through the crack. She saw a lit candle on the desk, illuminating an old map with curling edges, as if it had been rolled up for quite some time. Then her father strode into view, his back to her, and leaned over the map. Even though it was the middle of the night, he was fully dressed in brown robes and his hair was intricately braided in its customary style, with one thin braid in the back and the rest of his hair loose. Two strands of hair on either side of his face were woven into intricate patterns by his shoulders, accentuating the sharp features of his face.

"And what do you expect, Gandalf? That this hobbit will make it to Rivendell alive?" Elrond asked aloud. Celede's eyes widened. _Mithrandir was here?_

Celede had not seen Mithrandir for many years. Coupled with the fact that she felt guilty for eavesdropping on her father, Celede decided to simply open the door and make her presence known.

"Father?" she asked. Elrond whipped around.

"Celede? What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night," he exclaimed.

"I could ask you the same question," Celede said calmly. As she entered the library, she immediately spied Mithrandir lying on one of the couches, his head propped up against one of the armrests.

"Mithrandir?" her cheerful greeting died on her lips at the sight of him lying weakly on the couch, "Are you alright?"

"Hello, my dear," he told her, hastily rising to a sitting position, but with a grimace of pain that did not go unnoticed by Celede.

"I will confess that I have seen better days," he said.

Celede frowned, turning back to her father.

"What's going on? A hobbit is coming to Rivendell?"

"It is a long story, Celede," Elrond said tiredly.

"I'm all ears," said a voice from behind Celede. Arwen was standing in the doorway, dressed in a similar fashion to Celede, although her hair was pulled away from her face by several small braids woven intricately throughout her long hair. Celede realized that it must have been Arwen's footsteps she had heard descend the stairs. Arwen must have been listening as well and hid when she heard Celede approach.

Elrond sighed.

"See the trouble that you cause, arriving on my doorstep in the dead of night," he said to Mithrandir, although there was no anger in his voice.

Resigned, Elrond looked to Mithrandir to see if he would speak first. When Gandalf didn't, Elrond began.

"According to Mithrandir, the One Ring may have been found," he said slowly, "in the hands of a hobbit, no less. It seems Bilbo Baggins acquired the ring while on his quest with the Dwarves to take back Erebor."

Celede frowned. Bilbo Baggins had only just arrived in Rivendell to retire. While he had looked quite young for his 111 years when he first arrived, Celede had watched in astonishment as he aged before her eyes with each passing day he spent in Rivendell.

"So, the ring is here? The One Ring? Right under our noses in Rivendell, and we didn't sense that?" Celede said skeptically.

"And it doesn't explain why Mithrandir would arrive in the middle of the night just to tell us," Arwen added.

"I'm not finished yet," Elrond told them with a small frown. The sisters looked at him expectantly.

"Before he left, Mithrandir persuaded Bilbo to leave the ring in question to his nephew, Frodo Baggins. Then he traveled to Isengard to meet with Saruman, where he was…delayed."

Celede knew who Saruman was, as he had visited Rivendell before. In fact, when Bilbo had arrived in Rivendell for the first time, Saruman had come to Rivendell to conference with Gandalf, Galadriel, and Elrond over the sword found in Dol Goldur. Saruman had always struck Celede as someone who was cold hearted and not to be trifled with. Mithrandir's wince as Elrond hesitantly mentioned his "delay" suggested something further was amiss, although Elrond did not elaborate and Celede did not press further.

"I was supposed to meet him in Bree, outside of the Shire," Mithrandir added regretfully, "At the Inn of the Prancing Pony. But by the time I got there, the Inn had been nearly destroyed. The innkeeper told me Frodo and his three other hobbit companions had been pursued by the Nazgul, who devastated the place after Frodo disappeared. The fact that Frodo was pursued by the Nazgul, Lord Elrond, also adds evidence to my claim that he carries the One Ring."

Mithrandir glanced at Elrond meaningfully. Elrond gave a lithe shrug of his shoulders, but Celede could tell he was thinking deeply about Mithrandir's words.

Gandalf's face became very solemn once more.

"My reason for coming here is that Rivendell is the nearest safe haven to where Frodo is. He may still be pursued by the Ringwraiths. In fact, I have no doubt of it," Gandalf said.

"What would you have me do, Gandalf?" Elrond replied, "Send out a patrol of my finest Elves in the thick of a stormy night to bring back a hobbit who may or may not have the One Ring while Nazgul roam the lands? I will not condemn them to death. I'm sorry, Gandalf."

Gandalf sighed, as if expecting this response.

"There is one more thing you should know," he said, "Frodo and the other hobbits are not alone. A man is with them. The local townspeople know him as Strider, but here, I believe, he is known as Estel."

Celede heard Arwen's sharp intake of breath at this news.

"Father, we must send help," Arwen said immediately, taking a step towards her father. Elrond looked at her in surprise.

"If Aragorn is with them, then there is even less reason for me to send out help," he exclaimed, "Aragorn is more than capable of bringing them here safely."

"Not against all of the Nazgul!" Arwen said vehemently, "We cannot afford to lose the wayward party. If this Frodo Baggins does indeed have the One Ring, then we must not let it fall into enemy hands at any cost. That is, at any cost save for the life of the last heir to the throne of Gondor. We must make sure they arrive here safely. All of them."

Elrond paused at this. Celede knew Arwen's logic was sound, but her motives were not entirely based on this logic.

"Very well, daughter. Your reasoning is valid. I will send out a patrol as soon as the storm is over," Elrond finally said.

"That will be too late. They must leave now," said Arwen. Elrond raised a slim eyebrow.

"If you haven't noticed, daughter, there is a storm outside. It will make traveling extremely slow. A patrol leaving after the storm will still be able to reach them in the same amount of time, and they will not be as tired out from the journey either."

Celede saw Arwen about to refuse, but then Arwen's jaw clenched as if to hold back her tongue.

"Very well," she forced out, but with a gleam of determination in her eye. Arwen was going to leave, Celede realized. She was going to ride out alone in the storm to find Aragorn.

"Keep me updated," Arwen said before sweeping out of the library. Celede turned to her father.

"Let me know of any new developments as well, please," she asked, and Elrond nodded his head.

"Of course," he said.

With a final nod and smile to Mithrandir, Celede hurried out. She ran up to her room and shut the door loudly behind her to give her father the impression she had returned to her bedroom. She waited a few moments before slipping back out. Then she crept as quietly as she could to Arwen's chambers, which were unsurprisingly empty. Taking the long way around to avoid passing the library again, Celede ran outside. She'd forgotten to put on shoes again and her feet splashed across the puddles and wet stones as she ran towards the stables.

As she had predicted, she found Arwen there. Arwen had changed into more suitable riding clothes: thick storm grey robes over thin pale grey ones matched with dark grey gloves. When Celede arrived, Arwen was strapping a saddle onto Asfaloth, a white Elvish stallion who would, by nature, be faster than the steeds of the Ringwraiths. The storm would make it too difficult and tiring to ride bareback when the horse was wet, however, which was why Arwen was currently fastening a saddle to Asfaloth.

"I knew it," Celede said and Arwen whirled around. When she saw who it was, she turned back around to finish tightening the straps.

"I have to make sure he's alive," Arwen murmured against the horse.

"I know that too," Celede said with a sad smile. Arwen paused, then turned around and put a gloved hand under her sister's chin. She gently raised Celede's face to look at her.

"You also know I love him," Arwen said softly. Celede pulled her face away and nodded.

"Of course," she said, "I'm not here to stop you."

Arwen's stance visibly relaxed. Then she opened the stable gate and mounted her horse.

"Arwen," Celede called up to her, "Even though he is most important to you, Aragorn may not be the most important one to bring to Rivendell first. He can fend for himself. You need to get Frodo to safety. If he is indeed carrying the One Ring, the Nazgul will pursue him instead, and Aragorn and the others will be able to get here unimpeded. And we both know that the One Ring must not fall into the hands of Sauron."

Arwen nodded her understanding. Then she urged her horse onward and charged out of the stables into the stormy night.

"Galu!" Celede called to her rapidly departing back. _Good luck!_

Celede had hoped she would be able to sneak back inside the way she had come, but she should have realized that her father could not be so easily fooled. He stood at the entrance to her bedroom, arms crossed in front of him, when Celede arrived. Celede slowed her pace up the stairs, knowing she'd been caught, and defeatedly pulled her hair loose of its braid to begin wringing out the water from it as she walked. She was thoroughly soaked and shivering with cold.

"You had better have a very, very good explanation for this," Elrond said sharply.

"I do not," Celede replied. The truth would be best at this point, since her father did seem to be rather omnipotent.

"And where is Arwen?" Elrond asked.

"She has left to find Estel and the hobbits," Celede said mechanically.

"You didn't stop her?"

"No."

Elrond frowned.

"I am very disappointed in you and your sister," he said finally. Celede bowed her head in acknowledgement.

"But you will still send out a patrol when the storm has passed?" Celede asked worriedly.

"Of course," Elrond replied, "Especially now that yet another person dear to me is out there with those wraiths."

After a tense moment, his face softened.

"You must be freezing," Elrond said, gesturing to Celede to get to her room, "Go change into something warm. And do not let me find you out of your chambers once more tonight."

Strange how one could be five hundred years old and still be reprimanded by her father like a child. Celede thought it best to obey, however, sinking blissfully back onto her bed. But she did not sleep at all that night. Her thoughts were constantly on Arwen and Estel and the hobbit named Frodo, who had perhaps accidentally become the most important person to Celede and her secret endeavor to destroy Sauron.

ooOOoo

The storm did not let up until late the next afternoon, and by the time a patrol left Rivendell, Celede knew that Arwen would be far ahead of them. Celede spent the time constantly keeping watch by the Ford of Bruinen, knowing this would be the most likely place Arwen would re-enter Rivendell if she was in a hurry. She found a nice perch in a tree overlooking the river and the path she guessed Arwen would come from.

She spent the time singing with the birds in the trees and having them come to perch on her finger. Yet Arwen still did not appear. Celede knew it could be several days before Arwen and whomever she could save would show up, so she went and got her bow and arrows and throwing dagger and passed the time practicing her target skills as well.

By the third day, Celede was restless and anxious. She told herself over and over again that Arwen still had plenty of time to return to Rivendell; there was no reason to be nervous yet. But she had a bad feeling, a slight crawling under her skin that made her jumpy and tense no matter how many arrows she shot. Soon, her perfect hits made her mind wander to Legolas, even though she had resolutely tried to keep him out of her mind ever since their last encounter. Her efforts never worked though and she found herself still, even thirty-eight years later, longing to embrace him or talk to him or simply see his face again.

A whinny in the distance startled Celede out of her thoughts. She knew that voice. It belonged to Asfaloth. Celede leaped to a crouching position on her branch, nocking an arrow and pulling her bow taut in one fluid motion. Soon she could hear horse's hooves striking the ground above the gentle rush of the River Bruinen flowing over the pebbles at the Ford. There was definitely more than one horse, however. Arwen was being pursued.

Suddenly, Arwen burst into Celede's line of sight from above the hill on the other side of the river. Asfaloth steadily but sure-footedly cantered down the incline and across the Ford. He was closely followed by the cloaked Nazgul on their black steeds. Celede kept her bow aimed at them for a moment, counting swiftly. All nine of them were pursuing Arwen. Celede wouldn't be able to shoot them all down before they reached her sister, and she realized that her arrows would probably not have any effect on them either. She lowered her bow slowly.

Suddenly, one of them screamed and Celede had to resist the urge to cover her ears. No living creature made such a horrible, pained shriek.

The wraiths' horses reared and added their own shrill voices to the cacophony. They seemed hesitant to enter the water though. This gave Arwen time to reach the other side and turn back to face them.

Then one of the wraiths spoke in a low raspy snarl that reflected the tortured beings the Nazgul had become.

"Give up the Halfling, She-Elf."

Arwen drew her sword in one swift motion.

"If you want him, come and claim him," she retorted. Celede realized that there was a small, hooded figure riding in front of her. _Frodo?_

But Celede didn't have time to wonder about that. What was Arwen doing, urging the Ringwraiths to come at her?

The wraiths, as one, drew their swords. Nine Morgul blades glinted maliciously, all of them pointed at Arwen. Then they began to cross the Ford into Rivendell. As the lead Nazgul urged his horse to move faster, Celede prepared to draw her long dagger and jump out of the tree to fend them off, although she knew that would be a futile struggle.

But Arwen did have a plan, after all. She began speaking to the water surrounding her, at first quietly but then with more courage. Her words reverberated with the power and magic of the Elves.

"Nîn o Chithaeglir lasto beth daer; rimmo nîn Bruinen dan in Ulaer!"

As she began to chant the phrase again, Celede joined in, pushing all the power she could muster into the words, urging the waters to do their bidding.

_Waters of the Misty Mountains, listen to the great word; flow waters of Bruinen against the Ringwraiths!_

The river responded. Swollen from the storm that had just passed through, a cascade of water burst around the bend and charged the Nazgul, who all looked upriver in panic towards the sound. Even Arwen turned in surprise at the sheer power of the water she and Celede had released. Celede distinctly saw the shape of horses forming in the water as the river raced towards the wraiths. Seeing the barrage of water coming at them, the Nazgul futilely tried to run away downstream, but they could not outrun the river. With a crash of the waves and much screaming from the Nazguls, the wraiths and their horses disappeared under the raging water.

Celede rushed down the tree. She heard labored moaning that was definitely not coming from her sister.

"No!" she heard Arwen cry suddenly,

The small figure in front of her began to fall off Asfaloth, and Arwen quickly dismounted to catch him and lower him gently to the ground.

"Frodo, no. Frodo, don't give in. Not now," she heard Arwen plead with him, her voice pained.

Celede ran to the pair just as Arwen brought Frodo's head into her arms. Arwen seemed unharmed, except for a scratch on her cheek. Celede was startled to see tears fall as Arwen held Frodo to her.

"Arwen, I'm here," Celede said as she dropped to her knees next to her sister. Arwen gently pulled Frodo away from herself, and Celede saw his face for the first time. Her eyes widened in surprise.

She'd seen Frodo before. He had been the little boy standing by the river with Bilbo in one of the visions the Mirror of Galadriel had shown her so long ago in Lothlorien. Suddenly, everything made sense. The image she'd seen of Bilbo in the caves had been to show her that Bilbo had indeed stolen the One Ring from the emaciated creature living there. Then he had passed it along to Frodo before coming to Rivendell to retire. The outline of a ring in Frodo's shirt pocket confirmed this. Mithrandir had been right all along.

Frodo's eyes were glassy, however. The sparkling bright blue she remembered had been glossed over with a dull film. Celede knew Frodo's time was nearly gone. He was fading too fast; they'd never get him to their father in time. Something had to be done. Although Celede's own healing skills were very limited, Lord Elrond had still taught her a thing or two over the years. Celede put one hand on the side of Frodo's head, forcing his unseeing eyes to face her, and began her work.

When she looked up again, a Rivendell patrol was approaching from the end of the river the Nazgul had been washed down. Arwen walked over to meet them and began talking to them hurriedly. Celede realized they must have felt the dark evil of the Nazgul earlier and come to investigate.

"There is a dying hobbit here. He needs to get to Lord Elrond immediately," she heard Arwen say, "Let my sister ride one of your horses back with me. I need her aid to get him back alive."

The patrol knew better than to disobey their Lord's daughter. Immediately, an Elf dismounted. His brown mare walked over to Celede, nudging her arm gently. Celede rose, picking up Frodo in her arms. It was a strange experience to be looking down at a full-grown person that still fit in her arms. She quickly handed him over to Arwen, who had mounted Asfaloth. Then she mounted the mare and the pair rushed back to Rivendell as fast as they possibly could.

ooOOoo

Frodo was in pain. Actually, that was the biggest understatement of the century. Frodo was in agony, tormented by the stab wound of a Morgul blade. The wound not only stung and bled, but also burned and ached and made him incredibly nauseous and dizzy. The ride with the Elf maiden, who had introduced herself as Arwen, hadn't helped in the slightest. As he struggled to stay on the horse, the world began going in and out of focus. Blackness began to encroach upon the sides of his vision.

By the time Frodo finally got off the horse, he found he couldn't breathe without sending waves of harsh pain throughout his entire body. He vaguely heard Arwen telling him not to give in to the darkness, but he couldn't help it. Even if he wanted to resist, he didn't think he could. Everything was fading more rapidly, becoming blurry and black.

Then the darkness retreated suddenly, and Frodo was gazing into a bright white light that enveloped him like fog. From out of the pearly white fog appeared a face, the face of another beautiful Elf, although he supposed all Elves were beautiful. This maiden's face was rounder, her hair light blonde and her eyes blue-grey, although she had the same cheekbones and shape of the eyes as Arwen. When she spoke, her voice sounded very much like Arwen's, musical and soothing.

_Im Celede. Telin le thaed. Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad. _

In his years of living with Bilbo, Frodo had picked up some Elvish words here and there. The words this Elf and Arwen had spoken to him were thankfully simple enough for him to grasp their meaning.

_I am Celede. I've come to help you. Hear my voice. Come back to the light. _

He felt himself being lifted off the ground and jostled back onto a horse, sending waves of pain surging out from his wound. He heard himself whimpering with every breath but couldn't stop, as if his mind was no longer connected to his body. Celede's face suddenly vanished into the fog, and darkness began to invade the corners of his vision once more.

But then he heard Celede's voice in his mind again, this time speaking to him in the Common Tongue.

_Do not give up, Frodo. Stay with me, just a while longer. I promise. We are taking you to help, but you need to remain in this world, with me, until then. Fight the evil, Frodo. Fight the darkness. Hold out just a little longer._

He had no idea how he was hearing her, but she never stopped talking to him in this manner, and he clung to the sound of her voice. It was as if he had been falling off a cliff and Celede's voice was a rope that had been thrown to him. It didn't pull him back to safety, but it kept him from falling further into the black unknown.

ooOOoo

Celede was mentally exhausted by the time they reached the courtyard. Arwen pulled Frodo off Asfaloth and was hurrying up the stairs into the villa by the time Celede managed to fall unsteadily off her own horse. Muttering words of gratitude to the mare, Celede took a few deep breaths, mustered her strength, and ran after Arwen to the healing wards.

Lord Elrond met her on the way there. As they both walked quickly to their destination, Celede explained the situation to her father.

"Arwen has Frodo, but he is almost gone. I did what I could to keep him from passing into shadow, but I don't know how successful I was."

"If he is still with us, then there is a good chance I can heal him. Not many creatures of Middle Earth would still be alive at this point. The hobbit is strong," Elrond said thoughtfully.

"Another thing, Father. Frodo does indeed carry the One Ring."

Elrond paused at the entrance to an empty room of the healing ward. Arwen was inside, gently laying Frodo onto a bed. Mithrandir was there too, worriedly fluttering behind Arwen as she pulled the covers over Frodo. Frodo gave a choked gasp.

"You are sure of this?" Elrond asked quietly.

"Absolutely."

"Then we must send word to the other races of Middle Earth for a meeting to discuss what is to be done. The Ring cannot stay in Rivendell. There is already trouble on our borders," Elrond said grimly. Celede looked at him in surprise.

"You mean orcs again? How do you know?"

When Elrond continued to look somber, Celede realized she knew the answer.

"The patrol. Are they alright?"

"They were ambushed by a party of orcs. It is a miracle Arwen missed them. No one was killed, but they retreated here in disarray this morning with many injured. I am told the orcs were defeated, but I do not know how many other groups patrol the land outside of Rivendell."

"So Aragorn and the others are still out there? Alone?"

"Yes."

"Father!" Arwen exclaimed, noticing he was standing outside the door. He took a step inside, but then turned back to Celede with a slight frown.

"Don't tell me you are going to go back out there."

"Of course I am. They're in danger, and they don't even know it. They can't outrun any orc ambush, and Aragorn won't be able to fight off a party of orcs all by himself. I doubt the hobbits are very good at fighting."

"You can't-"

Celede played her final card, even though a raging headache was making itself known.

"If I don't, then Arwen surely will. And she's exhausted, Father, you must see that. I doubt she's slept in three days. I will be safe, I promise."

Lord Elrond still did not look happy, but suddenly Frodo gave another pained groan and Elrond's attention shifted. He was a healer, after all, and could not stand idly by a patient in pain.

"Go then. May the Vala protect you," was all Elrond said before he was rushing to Frodo's side, already speaking soothing words of healing to him. Arwen looked at Celede curiously, but Celede just gestured to her sister to help their father with Frodo.

She ran back outside. The brown mare was still waiting expectantly for her at the entrance to Rivendell. Celede swiftly mounted her and trotted towards the stables. She opened the pens of two horses she knew were gentle but fiercely loyal to their riders and told them to follow her as she charged out of Rivendell.

ooOOoo

Sam was worried, very worried. He was wandering the woods with a strange man he had only just met. This man not only referred to himself as Strider (which, in Samwise Gamgee's opinion, was a very shady name), but had taken them from Bree through marshes and forests and fields and who knows what else, all the while claiming he was guiding them to Rivendell (which seemed to be a bit too good to be true in Sam's fine opinion).

Then Frodo had gotten stabbed because Sam and the other hobbits had started a fire, Sam thought guiltily. They'd been so stupid, and Sam blamed himself for what happened to Frodo because of it. Frodo's wound was gruesome, making Sam fear for Frodo's life. He didn't know what he would do without the person he gardened for, a hobbit who also happened to be his good friend.

Then, just when all hope seemed lost, an Elf, a real Elf maiden, had suddenly entered the camp with Strider and taken Frodo away. To Rivendell, supposedly. This officially confirmed Sam's thinking that Strider was more than a little off his rocker, since they had been hearing the wraiths following them through the night and Strider had just let the Elf and Frodo practically run right into them.

Now it was evening two days later, and Sam found himself still allowing Strider to guide him deeper into the forest. He convinced himself that he had no choice, since they were already in unfamiliar territory. Sam was also forced to admit, although he'd never say so out loud, that he innately trusted Strider, despite his suspicious name. Strider seemed kind and patient, willing to answer all of his or Merry's or Pippin's questions, no matter how outlandish they seemed. This was even after Sam had barged in on him and may or may not have threatened him with the name "Longshanks". And after all, Strider had saved their lives twice in the few days they had known him; once when he sheltered them from the Nazgul attack, and once at Weathertop.

Same glanced ahead at Strider. He had been very quiet since Frodo's departure, slashing through the undergrowth more viciously than necessary to continue following the path. Sam knew that brooding look; he'd seen it plenty of times in the bar in Hobbiton. Unfortunately, most of those looks had been directed towards a certain lovely Rosie Cotton, which they really shouldn't have been in Sam's good opinion.

"Is she important to you, Strider?" he asked quietly. Merry and Pippin had fallen behind a bit, snacking on apples and chatting and laughing with each other, albeit nervously.

Strider continued walking, and after a moment Sam thought that Strider must not have heard him. He didn't dare ask again, however.

"I would give my life and more for her," Strider finally answered. Sam nodded. No wonder Strider was so silent all of a sudden. He had sent the love of his life into danger in the hope that Frodo would be saved in the process. If Sam had been forced to send Rosie…he shuddered. Sam suddenly respected Strider much more and was also filled with gratitude. So what if his name was funny.

"Thank you," Sam said aloud, knowing Stride would understand why he was grateful. Strider stopped in his tracks and Sam almost ran into him.

"You are welcome," he said with a small smile. They stood that way for a moment, each acknowledging their newfound respect of the other, until a rumbling sound in the distance caused both of them to look up the path.

"Get down," Strider said, hurrying back to Merry and Pippin to tell them as well. The four of them ran off the path and hid behind a large log.

"What's going on?" Pippin asked loudly. Sam could've whacked him.

"Someone's coming," was all Strider said before he put his finger to his lips to tell them to be silent.

ooOOoo

Celede was about to continue searching down the path when she heard a sudden loud snap of a twig. Unsure of who or what it was, she brought the horses to a stop, dismounted, and drew her long dagger out of its sheath. The noise had come from close by, so a bow and arrow wouldn't do her much good. There was a large log just a little ways off of the path. Perhaps someone was hiding over there…

ooOOoo

Pippin sucked in a silent breath. Why had he moved to scratch that itch, and why did that stick have to be right underneath him? The horses they'd heard had stopped, and besides their heavy breathing, he couldn't hear much of any other sound. The slight rustling sound he thought he heard once could have been a footstep or just the wind playing with the leaves. He looked at Strider anxiously. Strider was looking unseeingly into the distance, and Pippin could tell he was focused on listening to what was on the path.

Suddenly, Strider leaped up from his hiding position. Whilst drawing his sword, he leaped over the log and Pippin heard the sharp metallic clang of sword striking sword. He jumped and grabbed Merry's arm. Merry shrugged him off impatiently.

There were no further clangs however, which was surprising to Pippin. Then he heard Aragorn speak, not in the Common Tongue. A woman's voice answered, sweet and gentle. Pippin jumped up from his hiding spot, even though Merry tried to pull him back.

Strider was talking to a young woman who vaguely resembled Arwen but had blonde hair and grey eyes. Although they had different features, both were extremely beautiful. Pippin frowned and cleared his throat loudly. He thought it was nigh on time to set the record straight.

"So who exactly are you, Strider?" Pippin asked nonchalantly, "You can't just be a Ranger if you have so many of these fine Elf ladies coming to your aid all the time."

Strider blinked in confusion. The Elf maiden laughed and said something in Elvish again, to which Strider replied sharply, "Does it matter?"

Then the Elf maiden turned to Pippin, still smiling. Pippin took a step back, unsure of what to do now that the attention of this ethereal Elf was directed towards him.

"You must be one of the hobbits," she said in the Common Tongue. She had a slight accent, the words lilting over her tongue, which Pippin decided was not unpleasant.

"Yes. My name is Peregrin Took, but most call me Pippin. Over there is Sam and Merry, or Samwise Gamgee and Meriadoc Brandybuck to be perfectly formal. Although, we do favor nicknames in-"

"Excuse me, my lady. I don't mean to impose, but could you tell us what has become of Frodo? Another one of your kind took him away," Sam interrupted. He and Merry came to stand on the other side of Pippin.

The Elf said something in Elvish to which Strider shrugged.

"You are quite strong willed, aren't you," the Elf reflected quietly at Sam, "But very loyal to your friends."

"I'm just Mister Frodo's gardener, actually," Sam said meekly.

"Nevertheless, you consider him your friend. Do not worry, Samwise Gamgee. Frodo reached Rivendell safely. My father was tending to him when I left to find you. The roads are dangerous nowadays, and we had best make haste to Rivendell if we wish to avoid any unwanted confrontations with orcs. You have already been through enough this trip, I think," the Elf said sympathetically. Sam visibly relaxed, allowing himself to smile even. Frodo was going to be just fine.

"Your father? Who exactly are you? And who was the other Elf who was here?" asked Merry, always thinking.

"The Elf you met earlier was Arwen, daughter of Elrond. I am Celede, the other daughter of Lord Elrond of Rivendell. It is a pleasure to meet you, friends of Frodo," Celede said politely.

Strider broke in then.

"Celede is right. We will have time to talk later. Now we should focus on getting to Rivendell with all haste."

"But you only have three horses, my lady," Merry said in confusion.

"Two of you can ride this horse, and one can ride with Strider or me. These are Elvish horses and will do what I tell them, regardless of the skill of their riders. And I doubt you will ever experience a smoother ride than the ones you will have on the backs of these horses."

Merry and Pippin chose to ride one horse together. Their belongings were all packed on the back of Celede's horse while Sam sat in front of Strider. Once everyone was settled, Celede gave a sharp command to her horse and Merry and Pippin's horse, and they immediately began to head down the path the way she had come. Strider and Sam followed.

Sam felt a mixture of anxiety and excitement. He was constantly worrying about Frodo, and he was beginning to wonder, like Pippin, who Strider really was, but now he was actually on his way to Rivendell. On a real horse, no less! He'd have a tale or two to tell his Old Gaffer back home in the Shire.

He was going to be in a real Elvish haven. Sam had always loved reading about the Elves in books and such. When he and Frodo had seen wood elves leaving Middle Earth on their journey to Bree, Sam had felt inexplicably sad at the occasion. But now Sam was going to experience one of the homes of the Elves firsthand, He would surely get to meet more Elves and perhaps get to know the Elves he had already met. Celede seemed foreign but gentle and kind at the same time, and Sam hoped he would get the chance to get to talk with her some more.

But first, he had to make sure Frodo was alright.

ooOOoo

Celede had approached the log cautiously, her long dagger out defensively in front of her. Suddenly, a dark figure leaped out from the other side of the log and she heard the sound of a sword leaving its sheath. She instinctively moved to block the figure's attack, and the sharp clang of metal as their swords struck echoed around them. It was only when both participants had stopped moving that they finally recognized each other.

"Celede? What are you doing here?" Aragorn asked in surprise, immediately lowering his weapon. Celede did the same, sheathing her dagger over her shoulder.

"When I told my father I'd be careful, I was worrying about orcs and the like. I wasn't anticipating an attack by you, Estel," she said dryly, but with a hint of a smile on her face.

"Forgive me."

"I guess I must, since you did not actually succeed."

"I thank the Vala for your skills in defense. Did Arwen send you? Is she safe?"

"Yes. They both arrived safely."

Aragorn and Celede stared at each other. Celede had not seen Estel since Lothlorien. He looked older, but that only made him seem more regal and wise. He had grown so much from the little boy who had made her laugh ages ago. She had been about to move and embrace him when someone cleared his throat expectantly.

"So who exactly are you, Strider? You can't just be a Ranger if you have so many of these fine Elf ladies coming to your aid all the time."

Celede was surprised at the strange accent with which the hobbit spoke. It had an odd twang to it, but a rhythmic flow as well. She laughed at his words.

"The new name suits you, Estel. I wonder how many more you are going to call yourself before you accept the name your mother gave you," she teased. Aragorn did not find this amusing, however.

"Does it matter?" he snapped. Celede sighed and turned her attention to the hobbits.

As she began a conversation with the hobbit in front of her, another two came out of hiding behind the log. One had a curious glint in his eye, while the other looked much more solemn. Pippin soon introduced them as Merry and Sam, respectively.

Sam quickly asked Celede what had become of Frodo.

She turned to Aragorn and said, "So the young Ringbearer has quite the group of steadfast friends. He is very lucky."

Celede replied to Sam's question and the hobbits all rejoiced. Soon afterwards, the group had mounted the horses and was heading towards Rivendell. They had set out in the evening, however, so they had only gone a short way before the horses had trouble seeing and the group was forced to stop for the night. Celede was reluctant to start a fire, knowing orcs would surely be attracted to such a signal, but the night was cold and the hobbits were tired and shivering. They seemed so small and out of place that Celede empathized with them. She let them sit with the horses while she and Aragorn went to find firewood, but Sam insisted on helping out.

Once a small fire was lit, the group ate most of their remaining provisions. Since they were nearly to Rivendell, there was no need to ration out the food, and Celede could only stare in surprise at the amount of food Pippin consumed. She never thought that one so small could eat so much food. No one felt like talking, except for the occasional "Pass the sausages" and such from Pippin. Celede had the feeling that the hobbits were intimidated by her in addition to their general fear of being in unfamiliar territory and their worry for Frodo.

She decided to make them feel more comfortable by asking them about a topic she knew Bilbo Baggins could discuss for days on end.

"So tell me about your home. It's called the Shire, isn't it?"

Sure enough, the hobbits began talking over themselves as they exclaimed about the wonders of their humble home. The hills, the gardens, the food, the drink, the pipeweed, the fireworks…

"You know Gandalf well?" she asked in surprise. She felt strange saying Gandalf; all her life she had called him Mithrandir.

"He pops in every now and then. The children all love him. They run behind his cart with the other little girls and boys and call for him to set off some fireworks just for them. They always cheer so loudly when he does," Sam told her. Celede could imagine Mithrandir chuckling as the children all laughed at his unexpected fireworks. It was just like him.

They talked about the Shire some more, but soon the hobbits decided to retire. They were not used to traveling all day and being constantly worried, and they did not have the natural stamina of the Elves as well.

"You can sleep too. I will keep watch," Celede said to Aragorn, reverting back to Elvish.

"We are almost to Rivendell. There is no dire need for me to rest. I can keep you company," he replied.

"As you wish."

The fire crackled gently in front of them for a long while. Celede found the flames oddly soothing as they rippled up from the wood and turned to smoke in the sky. She rubbed her temples to try to ease the pain still present in her head.

"Your sister says you know," Aragorn said at last. Celede did not need to ask him what he meant.

"In all honesty, you were not very good at concealing your feelings."

Celede refused to elaborate, and there was a pause between them. She could tell Aragorn was struggling to ask something, but she didn't try to help him.

"Do you accept us?" he said at last. Celede stared into the fire for a moment, the memories of the Mirror of Galadriel flooding back to her. If Aragorn and Arwen hadn't fallen in love, Celede and her sister would both be able to survive the dark times ahead.

"Of course," she heard herself say, "You cannot control whom you fall in love with. I know you, and I know her, and I do not know two people more meant for each other."

At least she spoke the truth. Aragorn seemed to relax slightly at her words, but he was still tense.

"Arwen told me that she would give up her immortality for me," he whispered. Celede nodded, not denying his statement. Aragorn's shoulders seemed to sag.

"I would not be the cause of her death," Aragorn continued, almost pleadingly, "I would have her leave for the Undying Lands, to live out her life with her people."

Celede couldn't believe what she was hearing. Having Aragorn and Arwen separate would make everything alright again. Arwen's life wouldn't be tied to Sauron's, and Celede could live. She could leave the destruction of Sauron to those more likely to succeed. She could pursue a life with Legolas, even.

With a sigh of longing, Celede extinguished that hope as quickly as she had conjured it. It was too late now. No matter what, Aragorn and Arwen would still love each other. Already, Celede could not picture a son of Aragorn who was not also a son of Arwen. She suddenly found herself defending the thing she wished had never been formed.

"It is her choice, not yours," Celede said, "You cannot force her to leave if she loves you."

Celede gently put her hand on Aragorn's chest, where she felt the Evenstar jewel beneath his clothing.

"She has chosen you," Celede continued, "You cannot abandon her."

"Perhaps I was not thinking things through-"

"Do you love her?"

"Of course."

"Then let her love you. You have never forced Arwen to do anything. Just because she wishes to die when you die should not affect the life you may share with her now. You would wish the same thing were you in her position."

Aragorn said nothing in reply. He seemed lost in thought, and Celede let him sit and think.

The rest of the night passed uneventfully. By daybreak, the hobbits were beginning to stir. Pippin let out a loud yawn and stretched. Merry whacked him with his already rolled blanket, and Pippin yelped in protest. Celede watched them silently. She helped Merry and Pippin mount their horse, then mounted her own. Suppressing a yawn, Celede gave the horses the command to walk. She found that she was a bit tired from her sleepless night. Glancing over at Aragorn, she noticed he too looked weary. She prayed to the Vala the rest of their journey would pass safely.

Her prayers were answered when the group finally reached the top of the valley that encompassed Rivendell. She saw Sam, Merry, and Pippin gasp in astonishment at the sight of the Elvish haven carved into the valley before them. It was hard to swallow her smile.

"The Last Homely House East of the Sea," she said proudly, "There dwells Elrond, son of Eärendil, Lord of Rivendell."

She urged the horses on, feeling a wave of relief as she felt them pass through the wards around Rivendell. They were safe now.

"We made it," Merry whispered delightedly to Pippin, although Celede could still hear him.

As they passed through the open gate, Henduil came to greet them and take their horses.

"Henduil," Celede said to him, dismounting. Henduil gave her a respectful nod and a friendly smile as he took her horse. Celede helped Merry and Pippin dismount as she heard Henduil greet Aragorn as well, referring to him as Estel.

"Welcome to Rivendell," he then said to the hobbits in perfect Common Tongue.

Sam, Merry, and Pippin, eyes wide, were trying to take everything in all at once.

"I can have one of my patrol take you to the guest quarters, if you like," he continued.

"I'd like to see Master Frodo, actually, if I can," Sam replied immediately, finally tearing his gaze away from the architecture. Henduil looked to Celede, who nodded.

"Of course," she said, "I can take you all there now myself. Then I can show you your rooms."

Aragorn helped Henduil bring the horses to the stables while Celede brought the hobbits to the healing wards. When they finally arrived in the airy veranda Frodo had been placed, all three rushed to his bedside.

Mithrandir was sitting in a rocking chair by Frodo's other side, smoking a pipe. He smiled upon seeing the hobbits, who were all peering anxiously at the unconscious Frodo.

"Is he going to be alright?" Sam asked nervously.

"I daresay he will be. His body is recuperating, but he should be awake and able in a few more days," Mithrandir said cheerily, "Lord Elrond is a master of healing."

Celede had been standing by the door, watching the reunion with a smile. She felt a presence by her suddenly and turned to see Lord Elrond himself enter the room.

"Father!" she said happily, giving him a hug. He held her close for a moment before gently pulling away. He did not like to show affection in the presence of others.

"I see you have arrived safely," he said.

"I promised I would."

Elrond smiled as he turned his attention to the hobbits. They had been watching the interaction with curious eyes.

"Welcome to Rivendell, Master hobbits," Elrond said graciously. They all turned to bow awkwardly towards him. Elrond waved his hand.

"There is no need for that," he said, although Celede could tell he was secretly enjoying the fluster of the hobbits before him.

"Thank you, Master Elrond, sir," said Sam gratefully, "I was afraid for a moment we were going to lose him."

"As was I," said Elrond seriously, "But your friend is a fighter."

Elrond left a short while afterwards, but Celede hung around for a while. When the hobbit were finally satisfied that that Frodo was alive and going to be alright, Celede took them to their rooms.

"You are free to wander about the grounds and the house," she told them, "But try to stay out of other people's quarters."

"Yes, my lady. Thank you for your generosity," Merry told her. Celede smiled in reply.

ooOOoo

Two days later, Frodo was finally awake. He remained in bed for a while longer to allow his wound to heal sufficiently. Mithrandir and Sam were constantly by his bedside.

Celede never disturbed them, until she offered to take the evening meal to them one day. She entered to see Sam and Frodo chatting with each other. Mithrandir, still smoking his pipe, was watching them in amusement, occasionally chuckling.

Mithrandir looked up as Celede entered.

"Ah, my dear," he said cheerfully. He was back to his old self, Celede thought with relief.

"Frodo, it is high time you met one of the most endearing Elves in Rivendell. This is Celede, daughter of Elrond."

Celede set down the tray on a nearby table and smiled at Frodo. He was still so young, barely grown from the little boy she had seen in the mirror. She was glad to see the spark of his blue eyes had returned though.

"It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Frodo Baggins," she said. Frodo nodded to her. He did not seem as intimidated by her as the other hobbits had been when they had first met her.

"I am eternally grateful to your father for saving my life," he told her, "If there was anything I could do to repay him-"

"There is no need," she interrupted, "My father is simply pleased that he was able to help."

"Still-"

"Frodo, you are as much responsible for your recovery as my father was. He has told me himself that you are extraordinarily strong, and that you would not have survived otherwise."

Frodo blushed. Celede was glad the color returning to his cheeks as well.

"I don't know about that," he muttered.

"Oh, Mr. Frodo, you don't do yourself justice. Elves can't lie, remember?" Sam told him. Then he paused and looked at Celede.

"You can't, can you?"

Celede simply smiled mysteriously. Frodo chuckled. Then with a determined gesture, he sat up off the pillows.

"If I'm so tough, I think it's high time I got out of this bed," he said.

"Are you sure, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked, looking to Mithrandir to see if it was a good idea.

"Absolutely," Frodo said, throwing back the covers. Mithrandir shrugged.

With Sam hovering over him, Frodo slowly swung his feet off the bed. Then he took Sam's hand and eased himself off the bed.

He looked up at Celede as he stood by the bed, and she smiled encouragingly.

Frodo let out a deep breath.

"Did that hurt?" Sam asked.

"No, Sam," Frodo said, "That felt wonderful."

He took a few hesitant steps towards the door, but then straightened up fully and continued to walk. Celede noticed a slight hitch in his breath. The wound still pained him, but Frodo was determined not to let it show. Elrond was right; Frodo was a tough little hobbit.

"Now, I'd like to see some of Rivendell. And I haven't yet seen Merry and Pippin," he said.

"They've been too busy exploring," Sam replied, "I don't think they've sat still long enough for anyone to tell them you're awake."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Frodo asked before striding out the door. Sam followed excitedly.

Celede was left alone with Mithrandir.

"I see why you like him so," she said finally, "Frodo is quite a surprise."

"Agreed, my dear," Mithrandir said, "Although I think all hobbits share that unique characteristic. They seem like such simple creatures, but they really are amazing folk."

They sat in amicable silence for a moment. Then Elrond strode in. If he was surprised at the empty bed, he didn't show it.

"Gandalf, we must talk," he said abruptly. Gandalf saw the seriousness in the Elf Lord's eyes and nodded. He rose out of his chair and began to follow Elrond out of the room. Elrond gestured graciously to Gandalf to lead the way out the door. Then he turned to speak to Celede.

"We will be having guests here soon to decide what is to be done about the Ring," Elrond told her, "I'd like you to be responsible for welcoming them here. Keep an eye out for your brothers as well. I have sent word for them to return to attend this council."

"Yes, Father," Celede replied. "May I ask who is coming?"

"Men, Dwarves, Elves. Whoever chooses to answer my summons."

"Elves? Which Elves?" Celede asked, suddenly nervous to hear the answer.

"The Elves of Mirkwood were invited. King Thranduil declined attendance, but I believe he is sending his son, Prince Legolas, in his stead," Elrond said.

When Celede said nothing further, Elrond left to follow Gandalf.

Celede's heart was sputtering and leaping in her chest at the news. She was supposed to greet all of the guests. That meant she was going to have to see Legolas again, and soon. Celede told herself over and over that he probably hated her by now. He'd had nearly thirty years to nurse her rejection of him, and she didn't know what to expect.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop a flutter of excitement and anticipation from rushing through her. Without thinking, the image of him with his deep blue eyes gazing into hers and his strong arms embracing her came unbidden to her mind. She shook herself of those thoughts immediately. There was no way she could think like that and uphold her rejection of him. But still, the fact remained. _Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, was coming to Rivendell. _


	11. Tensions Arise

_**A/N: Oh geez...Life. I'm so so sorry for not updating sooner. I promise I am still writing this story and will try to update again soon! **_

_**Thanks to all who have read and left reviews, and thanks to all those still sticking with me after so long! **_

The first to arrive were the Men from Gondor. Celede thought Aragorn would have liked to greet them with her, since after all, they were his people. But Aragorn seemed determined to do no such thing, opting instead to retreat deep into the woods with Arwen.

The Men rode in through the stone gates on their horses, full of a pride and haughtiness that Celede found distasteful. They did not rule the world, at least not yet.

Their leader was a young man with shoulder-length straw colored hair. It was cut raggedly, and he was also unshaven. Facial hair had always intrigued Celede, since the Elves never grew any. She thought it must be terribly itchy to wear all day and all night.

Nonetheless, she greeted them with courtesy. She had chosen to wear a dark blue gown with a low cut neck and slits in the sleeves that revealed her bare arms when she raised them. Some of her hair was neatly pulled back into an elegantly coiled braid at the back of her head, while the rest fell in waves down her back and over her shoulders. An intricate circlet of woven silver adorned her forehead.

Celede told herself she was dressed this way in order to impress her guests with the splendor of the Elves of Rivendell. She refused to acknowledge that when she had turned her head in the mirror to scrutinize her appearance, she had been thinking of how Legolas might react to see her. Celede knew it was cruel for her to try to impress him when she had been the one to turn Legolas away, but she couldn't help it. After all these years, her love for Legolas had only seemed to grow stronger, and she couldn't help but wish Legolas would still desire her as well. She knew it was stupid and heartbreaking to think that way, so instead she tried to convince herself she needed to dress nicely to impress the other guests. If Legolas just happened to be among the newcomers…well, that was pure coincidence.

And so Celede ended up greeting the Men in much more formal attire than perhaps she needed to.

"Welcome to Rivendell," she said regally in the Common Tongue, descending the steps to face them as they dismounted. She had two guards flanking her and several handmaidens dressed a little more casually behind her.

All the Men glanced up at the sound of her voice and immediately stopped what they were doing. They stared in shock at the sight of the Elves who had come to greet them, their eyes wide as they scanned the Elves from head to toe, particularly Celede and her handmaidens, in a way that made Celede feel uncomfortable. Perhaps she should have worn something more modest.

The man with straw colored hair finally stepped forward. He had a circular shield strapped to his back and a sword on his hip.

"We scarcely have a chance to catch our breath from the journey, when the Elves of Rivendell take them away again."

He nodded to Celede, "You must be an angel unmatched in beauty throughout all of Middle Earth."

Celede tried hard to not show her discomfort in front of them. She knew this Man was just trying to flatter her, but the gesture was not as cordial among Elves as it was among Men. Elves were strictly monogamous, and unless they were courting, they generally refrained from such amorous talk. Celede took a deep breath, knowing she would just have to excuse the Man and move on.

"You flatter me, my lord," Celede said, putting on a polite smile and trying to make it seem sincere. She bowed her head to them.

"I am Lady Celede, daughter of Elrond. I hope you will enjoy your time here. We Elves are nothing if not hospitable-"

One of the men nudged his neighbor in the ribs as Celede spoke.

"You bet I'll enjoy my time here," he whispered. Clearly, he didn't know that Elves had superior hearing, and that every Elf present could hear his words. His leer made Celede angry.

"-to those who deserve it," she amended without pause.

The straw haired man, who seemed to be their leader, nodded.

"I am Boromir, son of Denethor, the Steward of Gondor," he said, "Thank you for receiving us so graciously."

Celede's smile became more genuine. At least this Boromir seemed to still possess some degree of decency.

"The Council of Elrond will be meeting tomorrow at noon. For now, Lindir will show you to your rooms. Food and drink will be provided to you, of course. Take this time to rest and prepare for tomorrow."

Celede made her speech short and simple. She was eager to send them on their way. Initially, Celede had planned to have one of her handmaidens bring the Men to their rooms, but upon meeting the arrivals that now seemed like a bad idea, so instead she gestured to one of her guards.

Lindir stepped forward with a slight bow to the Men, and then gestured for them to follow him to the stables first. Once the Men had departed, Celede breathed a sigh of relief. At least her dealings with the Men were over for now.

Celede had nothing to do then but wait for others to arrive. She knew there would only be a few hours before the next arrivals came. There was less than a day left before the Council would begin, but her father had set the date for the meeting at a time that would allow everyone to arrive beforehand. Bored with standing by the entrance, however, Celede asked one of her handmaidens to warn her of any impending arrivals.

Celede wandered around her home aimlessly, careful to avoid the hall where the Men were being housed. No wonder Aragorn had refused to join her, she thought with a shiver.

Celede came upon Sam and Frodo as she turned into a hallway that led outside. They were talking to each other quietly, and Celede only caught the word "home" before they noticed her and quickly ended their conversation.

"My lady," Sam said, "You look stunning. You see, Mr. Frodo? That's why I've always wanted to come here."

Frodo laughed at Sam's reverent tone. It was a vibrant laugh, full of life, and Celede smiled to see that Frodo really had recovered from his journey here.

"But in all seriousness, my lady, Sam is not exaggerating in the slightest," Frodo said to her with a nod.

"You are too kind, young masters," she replied, but she grinned to show them that they did not need to be so formal with each other.

"So what are you two conspiring about?" she asked.

"Just when we will be able to go home," Sam said with a shrug, "We brought the ring this far, so I'd reckon we've done our part."

"That you have, and much more," Celede told him. But what Sam had just said reminded her of something that had sparked her interest recently.

"The Ring. The One Ring to rule them all," she said quietly. Almost without thinking, she blurted out, "Frodo, may I see it?"

Frodo's shoulders immediately tensed, but Celede found she had a sudden and inexplicable urge to look upon the Ring, and she pressed on without knowing why.

"I won't touch it," she said, "I'd just like to see the object that has caused you so much pain."

Frodo looked at her for a moment, thinking. Then, reluctantly, he drew the Ring out from his front pocket, his hand fisted around the incriminating object. Ever so slowly, he opened his hand and held the Ring out to her from where it lay in the center of its palm. Celede stared at it. It was a simple golden band, nothing more. The One Ring did not look very menacing at all.

But then she heard a harsh whisper emanate from it, pulling her towards it. It spoke to her in her mind, in the language of Mordor. She didn't think she would be able to understand it, since her father had refused to speak the language when he taught it to her. He had only ever made her read scripts and translations, as he said that the language of Mordor was black and evil and would not be spoken aloud in Rivendell.

As the raspy voice talked to her though, she realized she understood its meaning perfectly. It promised her a world where she could live how she wanted, for as long as she wanted. She could end pain, suffering, and hold the dominion of the world in her hand. She could destroy the leering faces of the Men on her people, and live out her days alongside Legolas, as Lord and Lady of the world.

She took a step forward without realizing it, drawn to the voice of the Ring and its brilliant promises. But as she placed her bare foot down on the stone of the hallway, the sudden cold jolted her out of her trance. The voice ceased immediately, and the Ring sat innocently in Frodo's hand once more. Celede knew it could start talking again at any moment though, so she hastily took a step back, looking away. Frodo quickly tucked the Ring back into his pocket.

"My lady?" Sam asked worriedly, "Did it frighten you? You've gone awfully pale."

"No. I'm fine, Sam, thank you," Celede replied automatically, "And thank you for showing me, Frodo. It is indeed a heavy burden to bear."

"I will be glad to be rid of it," Frodo admitted. Celede nodded, but secretly wondered who would be able to carry it in his stead. The Ring would have to be destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom, and in order to do that, someone had to carry it there. She realized that no matter how much she wanted Sauron dead, this one encounter with the Ring had shown her she could not be the Ringbearer. Celede had been overwhelmed by desire for its power, and she hadn't even touched it. She suddenly felt ashamed by the greed she'd experienced towards the Ring. Perhaps she, an Elf, was not as strong as she thought she was when compared to Men like Isildur.

Nobody said anything for several moments. Frodo seemed ashamed for showing Celede the Ring, and Sam looked at both of them in confusion. He hadn't heard the Ring speak, Celede was certain, but Frodo was looking off into the distance unseeingly. He may have heard the voice as well, but he certainly hadn't understood it.

Lindir suddenly came around a corner and walked swiftly over to the group.

"My lady, another contingent has been spotted. They will be here shortly."

Celede's eyes widened and she began to rush away.

"If they've already been spotted, then they will be here any moment," she exclaimed nervously. Her father had tasked her with one duty, and she didn't want to be late. _I should not have ventured so far away from the entrance,_ she berated herself.

"You have a little time, my lady," Lindir replied, "These people are not riding horses. They are going on foot. The Dwarves will be arriving soon."

Celede made it back to the entrance with plenty of time to spare. She stood patiently with her contingent until the Dwarves finally strode down the path and into Rivendell. Each had long mustaches and beards, much longer and bushier than any of the Men's. Some even had tiny braids woven into their beards. They were taller than the hobbits, but not by much, and they were much more sturdily built under their thick, bulky armor.

As Celede walked up to greet them, a younger Dwarf with brown hair spotted her and quickly placed himself between her and the other Dwarves. He held a double-sided axe menacingly in one of his hands. Celede paused, unsure of what he would do. She raised her hands slightly to show him she meant no harm. There was something very familiar about him, but she couldn't figure out what it was. As one of the Dwarves tried to walk past him, the Dwarf suddenly thrust out his axe to keep him from walking any further.

"What trickery is this?" he barked at Celede, who blinked in surprise.

"First we are summoned to this Elvish valley, and then we are greeted by many beautiful Elves just as we enter? You must be trying to disarm us, but you will not trick us this time!" he said angrily.

"No, no. There is no trick," Celede said in confusion, "I am simply here to greet you as well as the others who are to arrive in Rivendell. Lord Elrond's Council is not a fabrication. It will take place at noon tomorrow. There is no conspiracy. We are honest beings, Master Dwarf."

The dwarf snorted. Celede turned to one of her handmaidens.

"Menelwen, please escort our esteemed guests to their chambers. Make sure as much food and drink as they wish are available to them at all times. Also inform them that they are free to travel about Rivendell during their stay here. We have nothing to hide."

Celede spoke loudly enough for the Dwarves to hear her. All of them perked up at the sound of food, as she knew they would from her experience with Thorin's company, but the Dwarf in front simply harrumphed. It was that noise that made Celede finally realize why he looked familiar.

"Glóin?" she asked suddenly. The Dwarf jumped, startled at the abrupt name.

"No. Why would you say that?" he asked suspiciously.

"My apologies," Celede said, quickly backtracking, "You remind me of a Dwarf I met long ago. Glóin was his name."

For the first time since entering, the Dwarf relaxed a little.

"Did you now," he said, although his eyes were still narrowed. With a final harrumph, he relaxed altogether, lowering his axe and resting his hands on top of it.

"Well, you are not mistaken, although I'm sure you Elvish folk never are. I am Gimli, son of Glóin. If my father came here and survived, then that just brought my chances of living up a bit," he said with considerably better spirits.

Celede frowned slightly but decided to leave it at that. Were the Elves really viewed that negatively by the Dwarves? And were they really considered so beautiful by Men? She had not had much interaction with other races besides her own. Aside from the obvious facts that Dwarves were short and Men did not have pointed ears, Celede had never given much thought to exactly how each race on Middle Earth differed from the others.

She sighed as the Dwarves were led away to their guest chambers. Celede was only waiting for a contingent of her own people to arrive now, but suddenly she felt a wave of anxiety. The task ahead would be much more difficult than the duties she had already accomplished.

When the Elves of Mirkwood finally arrived in late afternoon, Celede was waiting and watching the entrance from behind a stone pillar in the balcony above. Legolas led the group, charging in and dismounting almost immediately. Celede took a deep breath and took a moment to refresh her memory of him to her heart's content without being observed. He was even more handsome than she had remembered. Two thin braids pulled his long blonde hair away from his face, revealing his pointed ears. His brilliant blue eyes blazed beneath angled eyebrows and above sloping cheekbones. Celede took a deep breath and tried not to think about the way caressing that face would feel, or about his warmth as he held her close, their lips coming together as if drawn by an invisible force…

Legolas cast his gaze around and about, as if he was looking for something…or someone. Celede quickly hid behind the pillar, her heart fluttering as she half hoped he was looking for her. If that were the case, and she assured herself it wasn't, he wouldn't have to wait long. She had to come to him, to greet the last of the newcomers to Rivendell.

As Celede hurried toward the stairs, she quickly touched her hair to make sure everything was still in place. She tried to decide whether she should have all of her hair behind her back or perhaps some of it hanging down in front of her as well. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she realized how foolish and shallow that thought was and blushed slightly. But she could not keep them waiting. As a quick compromise for her own confidence's sake, she let her hair fall in front of one side only.

Legolas was still looking about when Celede appeared at the top of the stairs above him. When his gaze finally fell on her, their eyes locked instantly. Celede felt nervous shivers run down her spine. His blue eyes stared into hers intensely, but she could not read any emotion on his face. She finally forced herself to look away as she descended to the ground, although she knew he never took his eyes away from her.

The positive thing about these newcomers, Celede told herself, was that she could speak her native Elvish with them.

"My lords of Mirkwood," she began, bowing her head low, "Welcome to Imladris, the Last Homely House East of the Sea, presided over by Lord Elrond Peredhil. Thank you for traveling all this way. Your presence in this Council is greatly appreciated."

"Thank you for receiving us," Legolas replied stiffly, with a jerk of his head. Celede's heart sank at his blank tone. "But this Council is not the only reason we have come. I bring urgent news from King Thranduil, and it is important I speak with Lord Elrond at once."

The stiff formality in his voice never wavered. Caught off guard by this, Celede could only mutter, "Yes, of course, my lord. I can have your companions brought to the stables and their guest chambers, while I take you to Lord Elrond myself."

Legolas nodded, unemotional as ever. Feeling distinctly uncomfortable now, Celede nodded to one of the Elves next to her to take the other Elves of Mirkwood to the stables. Then she turned and began to walk back up the stairs, not even glancing back to see if Legolas was following. She took several deep, calming breaths as she moved, trying to hide her anxiety from Legolas. When she reached the top of the stairs, she turned to see him right behind her. He was looking straight ahead, and she quickly turned back to do so as well.

They walked in tense silence to the library. Celede felt herself blush when she saw that her father was not there.

"My apologies," she said nervously, "Lord Elrond must have retired to his study."

Legolas said nothing, just stood expectantly for her to lead the way again. Celede bit back a sigh.

When Celede reached the door to her father's study, she knocked softly.

"Come," came the voice of her father, and Celede couldn't help but feel relieved as she opened the door and walked in. Legolas was right behind her.

"Legolas Thranduilion requests an audience with you," Celede said tightly, forcing herself to say his name. For the first time since their initial contact, she felt Legolas look at her once more. She avidly refused to meet his gaze, though, and instead looked at her father expectantly.

"Of course," said Elrond kindly, "Prince Legolas is an old friend and is always welcome here."

"Thank you, my lord," Legolas replied with a slight bow. He paused then, and Celede realized he was waiting for her to leave. Suddenly, the nervousness she had felt upon seeing him gave way to anger. Old friends, indeed. With a quick nod to her father, Celede brushed past Legolas and stalked to the door, which she shut behind her a little more forcefully than may have been necessary.

Celede sighed, ashamed by her slight outburst. She should not have expected anything more from Legolas, but she realized now how much she had been hoping to remain close to him. Celede didn't know where to go, now that her duties were over. She walked back to the entrance, but that only reminded her of her brief eye contact with Legolas and she left quickly. She didn't want to go back inside, however, so she walked aimlessly about outside. The green of summer was just beginning to change to the orange of autumn, but the air was still warm and inviting, the breeze gentle throughout the valley.

She finally found herself in the courtyard, facing her mother's fountain. The statue of her mother's weeping face only brought back thoughts that had circled aimlessly in Celede's mind for thirty years. If only her mother had not chosen to go on that ill fated journey to Lothlorien. So much pain, so much heartbreak could have been avoided by that one simple choice to remain. There hadn't even been an urgent reason to leave the safety of Rivendell, which made everything that much worse.

Celede sighed, reaching down to dip her fingers into the swirling water at her mother's feet. There was no use in pining over what could have been, she thought miserably, as she had told herself again and again over the past few years. What was done was done, and there was no turning back.

She didn't know how long she stood by the fountain, trying to think about nothing but really thinking about everything, when a gruff yet not unkind voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Hey there, young missy," said the voice, "Mind showing me where I can go to sharpen my axe?"

She turned, quickly hiding her wet fingers behind her back. Gimli would think her very strange to be playing with the water in a fountain.

She was about to reply when another voice interrupted her, this one full of anger and annoyance.

"You will not speak to a Lady of Rivendell in such a manner," Legolas said angrily, stalking into the garden from the side entrance. Celede looked from Gimli to Legolas in surprise. What was Legolas doing here?

Gimli frowned, his eyes narrow slits in his bearded head.

"I meant no disrespect, Princeling," he said in a tone that was definitely not meant to be respectful, "We Dwarves are not so hoity toity about formalities as you Elves seem to be."

Legolas was about to reply when Gimli simply turned from him and faced Celede, his face relaxing once more.

"I meant no disrespect, Lady Elf," Gimli repeated, "Amongst my people, 'missy' is a perfectly acceptable way to address a young woman like yourself."

"No offense is taken, Master Gimli," Celede said quickly, "I do not believe I ever introduced myself, and that was rudeness on my part. I am Lady Celede, daughter of Elrond. You are free to call me Celede, though, if you wish."

Celede knew she probably shouldn't have become so informal with Gimli so quickly. But without Legolas, Celede felt the sudden need for a friend, a companion to ease the hole Legolas had suddenly torn in her heart by his coldness. Although Legolas had every right to act that way towards her, Celede hadn't realized how painful it would be for her to try to accept the distance between them. The distance she herself had caused.

Both Gimli and Legolas raised their eyebrows in surprise. Then Gimli said haughtily to Legolas, "At least some Elves can be halfway decent. Clearly the lady is not from Mirkwood."

"You have no idea what Mirkwood is like," said Legolas.

"Oh, don't I? I know that when my father and his company came to Mirkwood seeking aid, you and your kingly father tossed them into the dungeon like simple thieves!"

"And they weren't?" said Legolas angrily.

"Of course they weren't!" Gimli cried, "If you had just taken the time to listen to their tale, you would have known!"

"We questioned them and they refused to give us any information. How else were we to proceed?"

Celede watched the escalating confrontation with wide eyes. Both looked about ready to take out their weapons and duel each other.

"You should have trusted their good intentions!"

"Like you would have if the situation were reversed?"

"It's common sense told to every Dwarf child. Never trust an Elf!"

"Stop," Celede finally intervened, "Whatever happened between you two happened long ago. The past cannot be undone, and things are different now."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Gimli and Legolas both muttered under their breath. Celede looked at each of them sharply, but Legolas was again refusing to meet her gaze. Celede's anger over Legolas's behavior towards her, incensed by the argument she had just witnessed, finally snapped.

"You are going to be here for two days at most. The reason you are here is to decide a future that will affect all of Middle Earth. If you can't even look at each other without arguing, then perhaps Middle Earth is doomed, and we shouldn't even be trying to save it. Two days. That's all that has been asked of you. Afterwards, you can all go about your lives and pretend the other never existed. But Rivendell is not the place to engage in petty quarrels. This Council is being held for you. For all those who call Middle Earth their home. Do you understand?"

Suddenly Celede found herself facing Legolas, as if talking only to him.

"It was done for you, so have a little more respect for those who are struggling to do what's best for you."

Celede realized with a wince that she wasn't strictly talking about the Council anymore. As she spoke, she was thinking instead of what she had done to Legolas the last time they had met. Legolas blanched at what she said, but she doubted he understood the true meaning behind her words. _Celede had ended things to do what was best for him._ Legolas just wasn't accustomed to her yelling at him. With a huff, Celede turned on her heel and stalked away.

Gimli and Legolas stood alone in the courtyard. Gimli watched Legolas's face as it changed from surprise to hurt and sadness as Celede left. The way he looked at her retreating figure, full of wistful longing, made Gimli smirk. He may not have been as old as the Elves, but he knew a lovestruck couple when he saw them.

"Feisty, that one," Gimli finally said, "I've got to say, you picked a good maiden, Princeling. She will keep you from being so uptight, that's for sure."

Legolas finally yanked his gaze away from the path Celede had gone down. His vulnerable look was swiftly replaced by irritation.

"_What _did you just say?"

"You have good hearing. I'm sure you heard me."

"I don't know what you are talking about, Dwarf. There is nothing between us. She made that very clear. Don't stick your nose into affairs that you are so clearly not a part of."

Gimli was surprised at this. Not at the annoyance in Legolas's voice, but at his words.

"She made what very clear?" he said without thinking, "Have you seen the way she looks at you? Or tries not to look at you? She's just as smitten with you as you are with her."

He wasn't expecting a good reaction from Legolas, but Gimli still winced under Legolas's piercing glare.

"For her sake, I will not argue with you, Dwarf. But stay out of my way from now on. We will have to meet again at the Council, but let that be the only time I am forced to put up with you."

This riled Gimli.

"Fine then, Princeling," Gimli called out as Legolas turned and began to walk away, "I see why she gave up on you. Did your temper get the best of you with her as well?"

Gimli heard his reply as if it were a soft whisper floating on the wind.

"Never."

Gimli frowned in confusion, then shrugged and wandered off. Celede had never actually told him where the blacksmiths worked.

Legolas tried not to let Gimli get to him, but his words stung, opening wounds Celede had created decades ago. Legolas had been so sure that Celede returned his affections. They had talked and laughed together, even brushed each other occasionally and definitely not by accident. He remembered her body relaxing under his touch at a dance they had shared when they first met, and again as she strung her bow and let loose an arrow that hit its target perfectly. He couldn't understand why she had ended things so suddenly and so cruelly, and it made him feel more insecure than he had ever felt before in his life.

In the years that followed, Legolas had become less apt to express his emotions. Even the courtiers in Mirkwood and his father had noticed. Legolas would wonder the halls aimlessly, lost in thought. Perhaps he had simply misjudged Celede; after his thousands of years in this world, he had simply miscalculated. The songs all said that love was as mysterious as it was endless. He must have made a mistake, had been a fool in love. It was the only explanation he could think of.

During their years of separation, Legolas had tried to see other maidens to get his mind away from Celede, but they never caught his attention for long. If they did something he liked, such as practice archery with him, he could only think about how Celede was better with the bow. If they did something arrogant or superficial, he could only think that Celede would never believe herself to be the best Middle Earth had to offer like the other maidens did.

When King Thranduil had told Legolas to travel to Rivendell to attend the Council of Elrond, Legolas's thoughts had immediately jumped to Celede. He barely heard his father tell him that he needed to give Lord Elrond an important message. The creature Gollum had escaped the dungeons, and Thranduil wanted Elrond's opinion on the lengths he should go to retrieve the creature. But all of Legolas's thoughts were directed elsewhere, fixed on Rivendell and the beautiful but unpredictable maiden that lived there.

He had equally longed and dreaded to see Celede again. Part of him refused to believe the words she had spoken, but the other part refused to acknowledge the hope that she hadn't meant what she said. Why would she tell him they were not a good match if she thought they could ever be a couple? It was not part of her character. The Celede he had grown to love wouldn't have turned away from something she truly wanted if there was even the slightest chance of achieving it.

Truthfully, Legolas hadn't meant to be so cold to her when they had finally met once more. He truly hadn't, but for some reason anger had overwhelmed him. He found himself refusing to meet her gaze and acting cold towards her, trying to hurt her as she had hurt him. He wanted her to know, no matter how untrue it was, that she could not turn him away and expect him to continue to want her. And after he had met her gaze once, the beauty and power behind her grey eyes kept him from doing so once more.

For the first time in perhaps his entire life, Legolas wished he hadn't come to visit Rivendell. He could just as easily have asked his father to send someone else. His situation with Celede was bad enough, but in addition, he now had to put up with an irritating Dwarf who said certain things, things Legolas couldn't bring himself to believe but hoped with all his heart could be true.

ooOOoo

"I'd like to attend, Father."

"Are you certain?"

"Absolutely."

"Then I don't suppose I could stop you even if I tried," Elrond said, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

"I knew you'd come around sooner or later," Celede smiled.

"Your sister isn't going," Elrond replied.

"But my brothers are."

Elrond looked at her.

"If they arrive on time."

"They will. They have a few more hours yet. It is still early in the day."

"And none of the hobbits have been invited," Elrond continued, "Besides Frodo, of course."

"Then it is a good thing I am no hobbit."

Elrond frowned at her cheeriness, and finally Celede sighed, becoming serious.

"This is a meeting to decide the fate of Middle Earth. You said so yourself," she said patiently, "And we both know that Arwen and I are tied to that fate as directly as Middle Earth itself. Arwen may not know that yet, but I do. You cannot force me out of a meeting that is going to make decisions that will affect my life drastically."

"I do not mean to force you out of it," Elrond interrupted. When neither of them believed this, Elrond sighed.

"I just wish you would choose to leave for Valinor."

"But then Arwen-"

The look on her father's face stopped her. Amongst the solemnity and love was was fear and desperation as well. In that instant, Celede's suspicions were realized. Her father knew about Arwen and Aragorn completely. He knew that the love they shared was as deep as the love between Beren and Luthien long ago and nothing would change that, but he had still come to a decision for his daughter. For both of his daughters. Elrond had been forced to weigh the odds, and Celede realized, as she knew he would, that Elrond would choose the only way to keep both of his daughters alive. He was going to make both her and Arwen leave for the Undying Lands. That one look into her father's eyes revealed everything to Celede.

"She will not go," Celede cautioned, "We both know she is in love with Aragorn."

"Aragorn," Elrond said, almost angrily, "The heir to the throne of Gondor who wishes with all his heart that he is not that man. That is who Arwen has fallen in love with. She can have a hundred years with him perhaps, but then what? Our people are leaving these lands; in a hundred years, who will be left? When Aragorn dies, for he will die whether he is a vagabond or a king, Arwen will be left with no one."

"She will choose mortality. You know that. We have both foreseen it," Celede said in confusion.

"I will not let my daughter throw her life away. Perhaps I cannot persuade her, but I can persuade him. Estel would not have anyone give their life for him, much less Arwen's. You will both leave for Valinor as soon as possible. That is why there is no reason for you to attend this Council, and why I will not stop you if you wish it. It will not matter in the end."

Celede couldn't believe her ears. Her father, the Elf she had always counted on to stand beside her, had turned on her. He had formed his own plan for what he believed was right, with neither her nor Arwen's consent.

"How could you, Father?" Celede asked, shocked. Elrond raised his eyebrows at the sudden emotion in her voice.

"Arwen has found her one true love, and I chose long ago to do everything in my power to make sure she and Aragorn would be together. I thought I had you on my side."

"Of course you do-"

"Clearly I don't, since you plan on sending us away anyway. Did it ever occur to you that I can make choices on my own? I'm not a little girl anymore."

"I know that-"

"Then stop treating me like one. And you cannot control Arwen's life no matter how much you love her. I know, Father, it's hard to stand by and do nothing when the ones you love are in danger. But sometimes, if they choose to, you have to let them go."

"I did," Elrond said, his voice strained, "I let your mother go. She made a choice I didn't approve of and I let her do it. Then I lost her. If I hadn't stood by and done nothing, then none of that would have happened. None of this would have happened. You would have had a mother, and I would have my love by my side still."

Celede was silent, shocked by this emotional outburst that was so unlike her father. Elrond said nothing further.

"I know losing Mother was the worst thing that ever happened to you," Celede finally said, "But you cannot justify controlling my life or Arwen's because of it. As wise as you are, Father, you need to learn to let go again. You cannot control everything, and you need to accept that. Let us control our own lives, Father, I beg you."

Elrond was facing her, but his eyes seem to be staring far away. Celede hoped with all her heart that she had gotten through to him, made him understand what he had to work on accepting, at least.

"Your ship leaves a week from now," he finally said.

Celede couldn't be angry, not since her father's motives were painful for both of them. But she could not hide her disappointment in his decision.

"I will attend the meeting tomorrow," she said quietly. Then she fled her father's presence. With or without his approval though, Celede still had no intention of leaving Middle Earth.

ooOOoo

Elladan and Elrohir arrived late that evening. They cantered through the gates in the dark and were surprised to be greeted by Legolas.

"I didn't know you lived here now," Elrohir said after he dismounted. He was about to add, "Moved in with our sister at last, have you?" but he bit back the words. Celede always went silent whenever Legolas was mentioned these days, and Elrohir figured something must have happened between them. It was a pity, since Elrohir had quite enjoyed the idea of having Legolas as a brother-in-law.

Legolas gave a weak smile.

"I'm here for the Council, same as you," he said.

"Yes, what is that about? Father said it was urgent for us to return. We had to give up hunting a group of orcs we'd been tracking for five days," Elrohir said grumpily.

Legolas raised an eyebrow.

"You don't know?"

Elladan glanced sharply at him.

"Don't know what? We've had little correspondence with anyone for quite a while. We only got the message because Father sent a hawk out to find us."

"Which, in retrospect, he rarely does," Elrohir added quizzically, opening a canteen of water and bringing it to his lips.

Legolas sighed.

"The One Ring has been found," he said quietly, as if afraid of anyone else in the empty courtyard hearing his words, "It's here, in Rivendell."

Elrohir choked on the water, coughing and spewing the liquid everywhere. Elladan might have remarked on how attractive that was if he hadn't been completely shocked as well.

"Are you sure?" he stuttered.

Legolas looked at him wryly.

"No, I'm lying to you right now," he said, rolling his eyes.

"But how? Where was it? Are you sure it's the One- the One Ring?" Elrohir finally managed to gasp.

"The where and how doesn't matter now. But yes, we are sure. It is Sauron's Ring, here in Rivendell, and that is the reason for the urgency of this meeting."

The three were silent for several moments as Elladan and Elrohir both tried to process the news. Then their horses' ears pricked up as they turned their heads toward the top of the stairs.

"Elrohir? Elladan? Is that you?" came Celede's voice from above.

Legolas stiffened at the sound of her voice. Before anyone could protest, he swiftly slipped into the shadows and disappeared. Elrohir and Elladan glanced at each other worriedly. What had happened between Legolas and Celede?

"Yes, little sister, it is us," Elladan finally called up. He heard her sigh of relief and then her light footsteps as she ran down the stairs.

He didn't see her in the darkness until she was right in front of him, and then slamming into his arms.

"I'm so glad you made it," she whispered in his ear as Elladan chuckled and held her close.

"Of course we did," said Elrohir, "You know how Father gets when we don't do as he asks."

"Don't I know," Celde muttered cryptically before she embraced him too. She quickly stepped back though.

"Why are you all wet?"

Elladan gave a weak laugh.

"The canteen got the best of him," was all he could say. But he knew both his and Elrohir's thoughts had gone to the problem of the Ring.

Elladan's father was one of the wisest and most capable beings in the land, but Elladan couldn't help feeling a sudden worry that perhaps this problem was too large for even Lord Elrond to handle. And if Lord Elrond couldn't handle the situation, no one else had a chance.

Elladan told himself there was no point in worrying yet though. He'd just have to wait to see what would unfold in the Council tomorrow.


	12. Her Father's Counsel

**Surprise! Happy New Year!**

**Now that I've delved into the movie material (which I'm still not sure I like, but in the interests of continuing the story have posted anyway), my disclaimer is that there are lines and scenes from Peter Jackson's LOTR trilogy here and in future chapters that I take no credit for...If it seems familiar, its probably not my writing. This story is written purely for my enjoyment. Thanks for reading! **

Celede watched from her seat as the last participants of the Council filtered in. They were seated in an ancient part of Rivendell, tucked behind her family's living quarters, where Elrond thought the power of the valley was particularly strong and would keep the meeting safe and secret. Chairs had been arranged in a semicircle around a stone pedestal in the center. Her father had been given a place of honor in an ornate high-backed chair facing the Council members, since he was the head of the Council. Elrohir and Elladan sat to Elrond's left while Celede sat to his right.

Frodo sat on the far left, farthest from Celede. Gandalf sat beside him, and on Gandalf's left sat the Mirkwood Elves. Legolas was a familiar face among the other solemn, stern Mirkwood Elves she did not recognize. His cloak was light velvet in color and not as long as the robes of his companions, revealing slim, strong legs tucked into sturdy boots. Celede tried not to spend too much time looking at him though, and she quickly passed her gaze on to the others in the circle.

Two older Men sat out of place between the Mirkwood Elves and the Dwarves. There were five Dwarves present altogether, with Gimli in the center of them. Celede caught his eye and smiled, and Gimli gave a quick nod in return.

Beside the Dwarves sat four more Men, and Celede quickly recognized Boromir among them. He too nodded when he caught Celede's eye. Although he had seemed least barbaric among Men, Celede was beginning to have a nagging suspicion that there was something amiss about him. His inner character to do the right thing was at war with his position among the Men. Celede watched as Boromir nodded politely to a Mirkwood Elf, but then flushed as his companions laughed at him for it. To Celede, Boromir seemed like the kind of person who could be persuaded to do things he would truly regret afterwards.

Next to the Men sat two Elves from Rivendell: Henduil and Melpomaen. Henduil was there because, of course, he was the captain of the patrol. Melpomaen was a trusted advisor to Lord Elrond, and Celede had known him for as long as she could remember.

Finally, Aragorn sat on the end closest to her. He was wearing dark grey Elvish garments and tall, loose boots. Celede felt a smug, guilty pleasure in seeing Aragorn wearing Elvish attire instead of Men's clothing. It was a subtle sign that Aragorn felt more affiliated with the Elves than with his fellow Men. Although she, as an Elf, was pleased, Celede noticed many of the Men cast scathing looks at Aragorn and whispered about him behind their hands. It made Celede that much more annoyed with the Men than she already had been. Boromir surprised her by nodding to Aragorn, even with his Elvish garb. She realized they must have met earlier, before the Council.

Celede herself was wearing a simple, thin maroon gown with little trim. Her hair hung loosely behind her shoulders. Besides a gold circlet upon her brow, Celede was otherwise unadorned. She knew she would be the only female attending the Council, and she felt it was wisest to try to downplay her femininity in front of all the other males present. She wanted to be treated as an equal in the Council, not a superficial bystander.

The side chatter finally lapsed into silence as everyone else noticed they all were in attendance. Celede turned her head to see her father slowly rise from his seat. He too was wearing dark red robes and a golden circlet atop his customary hairstyle, although his robes were much redder than Celede's and had a thick trim of light velvet to embellish them.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old," Elrond began, "you've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor."

Even though Celede knew her accent was worse, she could still detect a hint of Elvish lilt in the way her father said "Mordor". Rather than discredit him though, Celede thought her father's accent made him seem even more regal and in control of the Council.

"Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction," he continued, "None can escape it."

Celede, who had been subtly watching Legolas, saw Legolas glance at Aragorn quickly. Then his gaze flashed to her, and she quickly looked away. Trying hard not to blush, she stared pointedly at the ground beneath her feet, watching fallen leaves swirl aimlessly about, caught up by the wind.

"You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom."

Elrond turned to face Frodo then, his hands clasped in front of him.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo," he said, extending a hand towards the pedestal. Frodo slowly stood up and walked to where Elrond indicated. If he was nervous, he didn't show it. Frodo's movements were nothing but determined as he placed the ring gently in the center of the stone and then returned to his seat. Once he had sat back down, Celede heard Frodo breathe a sigh of relief, and a faint smile crossed his lips. Celede smiled internally too. Frodo had completed his task; he and the other hobbits could now return to their beloved Shire.

"So it is true," Boromir said softly. Celede glanced at him in surprise. She thought everyone had known that the One Ring was the purpose of the meeting. Apparently, some had chosen not to believe the rumor.

Suddenly, the Ring began to whisper once more in that same, evil whisper Celede had heard when she'd asked Frodo to show it to her. Involuntarily, she glanced at Legolas, who was watching the Ring with curiosity and distaste at the same time.

Boromir stood up then, and Celede tore her gaze away from Legolas.

"In a dream," Boromir began, "I saw the eastern sky grow dark, but in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, 'your doom is near at hand. Isildur's Bane is found.'"

As he said this, Boromir edged closer and closer to the Ring. Celede glanced nervously at her father, who had in turn looked to Gandalf as Boromir began reaching his hand out to the Ring. The whispering suddenly grew louder in Celede's mind, becoming a deep, dark timbre. She winced, and in that instant, her father leaped to his feet.

"Boromir!" Elrond barked sharply.

At the same time, Gandalf began speaking in a foreign language. With a shock, Celede realized he was speaking in Mordor.

"Ash nazg durbatulúk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulúk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!"

_One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the Darkness bind them._

The sky became dark and cloudy as the wind picked up speed. Thunder crackled around them as Gandalf chanted. The Ring's voice became louder and more coherent in Celede's mind, and suddenly she felt a sharp pain stab into her forehead. Gandalf seemed to be trying to appease whatever evil existed in the Ring, and Celede wished he would speed up whatever he was doing. She put a hand to her forehead, but the pain, if anything, increased.

Celede forced her eyes to open to narrow slits to see what was happening. Her father had a hand to his forehead as well, and Legolas's eyes were closed, his face a grimace of pain. The other Elves seemed similarly affected. Boromir stepped away from the pedestal nervously. Aragorn was looking at her and Lord Elrond worriedly. He was clearly not being pained by the evil behind the words being spoken, although he could tell the Elves were suffering. The earth began to shake and spin beneath Celede's feet, and she gasped, the pain suddenly becoming unbearable.

Then, just as suddenly, Gandalf finished his chant. The voice ceased. Light began to flood back into the clearing, and the pain in Celede's head vanished as suddenly as it had come. Except for the shocked and nervous faces in the circle, it seemed like nothing had ever occurred.

"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris," Elrond said angrily. Celede was shocked that her father could be accusing Mithrandir of saving them from the Ring's evil.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West!" Gandalf cried, "The Ring is altogether evil."

He looked at Boromir scathingly, but Boromir only shook his head.

"It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor," he continued, as if nothing had happened. Celede had half a mind to whack him over the head.

"Did you not witness what has just occurred?" she interjected. Elrond closed his eyes upon hearing her voice, which angered her even more. Why couldn't she be a part of the Council?

"Did that seem like a gift to you?" she continued, "Mithran- Gandalf is right. The Ring is pure evil."

"No, why not use this Ring?" Boromir continued, as if Celede had never said anything. She frowned, and Aragorn glanced at her sympathetically. She felt rather than saw Legolas's eyes on her, but she refused to meet his gaze. Her cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment, although she told herself she had no reason to be ashamed of being ignored.

"Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe," declared Boromir.

Aragorn took a deep breath, seemingly affected by this statement. It was Celede's turn to sympathize. Although Aragorn didn't want to be king, Celede knew he nevertheless cared for the people of Gondor. They would be his people, if he ever chose to rule, and he hated the thought of them being harmed in any way.

"Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him-" Boromir continued.

"You cannot wield it," Aragorn interrupted sharply, "None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

There was a slight pause. Boromir was staring at Aragorn in irritation.

"And what," Boromir said condescendingly, "would a Ranger know of this matter?"

Legolas suddenly stood up to defend Aragorn.

"This is no mere Ranger," he said angrily, "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

Aragorn winced at Legolas's words. Celede realized Aragorn had not wanted that knowledge made public to the Council. The Men all looked at Aragorn in astonishment. Frodo did as well, and Celede realized that to the hobbits, Aragorn had only ever been "Strider".

"Aragorn," Boromir said disbelievingly, "_This _is Isildur's heir?"

Aragorn tried to hold his own, refusing to buckle under Boromir's gaze.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," Legolas added. Aragorn finally put a hand up towards Legolas.

"Havo dad, Legolas," he said quietly, shaking his head once. _Sit down, Legolas._ Aragorn spoke in Elvish, something Celede knew he wouldn't have done in front of the Council unless he was truly desperate.

Boromir's eyes were full of hate.

"Gondor has no king," he spat, "Gondor needs no king."

He sat down and caught Celede's eye. She stared back coldly this time. Who did Boromir think he was, to discredit the true king of Gondor?

"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it," Gandalf spoke up, bringing the meeting back to the matter at hand. Elrond stood up once more.

"You have only one choice," he said, and Celede knew that Elrond had planned this from the beginning, just as he had planned her future and let her come to realize his plan for herself. He had opened the meeting up to the others for ideas, but really he had already foreseen the path the Council would take.

"The Ring must be destroyed."

Boromir sighed loudly at this pronouncement.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Gimli interjected suddenly, his first contribution to the Council. He stood up, grabbed his axe, and ran towards the pedestal. With a cry, he slammed his axe downwards onto the Ring. Celede flinched back, anticipating a response from the Ring, but she still jumped as the eye of Sauron imprinted itself upon her vision with a snarl. She heard Frodo gasp in pain and looked up to see Gandalf looking over at him worriedly as well.

When the smoke dissipated and Celede finally dared to glance at the pedestal, she blinked in surprise. Gimli's axe had been shattered; its pieces lay scattered around the Ring. The One Ring, however, remained as intact and innocent as ever.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Glóin, by any craft that we here possess," said Elrond, stating the obvious but depressing truth.

"The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came."

Celede gasped softly in sudden realization. Unbeknownst to Elrond, he had finally given his daughter a mission, a specific task she could undertake to end Sauron once and for all. A task that upon completion would allow Arwen to marry Aragorn and live a fulfilling life as queen of a kingdom freed from evil.

"One of you must do this," Elrond finished.

As much as she wanted to volunteer, Celede had already realized she couldn't be the one to carry the Ring. She'd be driven mad by it, and once it won her over she would not be able to cast it into the fires of Mount Doom. Celede would never be able to forgive herself. She realized instead, she would have to volunteer to accompany the Ringbearer on his mission, whoever he might be.

Boromir scoffed again.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," he began, then proceeded to list off various reasons why, but Celede was only half-listening. Mordor was swarming with orcs; Sauron's eye was ever watchful; Mordor itself was a barren wasteland where even the air was poisonous…

"Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly!" he concluded.

Legolas stood up once more. He seemed as sick of listening to Boromir as Celede was.

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?" he cried indignantly, "The Ring must be destroyed."

Gimli leaped to his feet then, looking up angrily at Legolas.

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?!"

"And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?" Boromir added, ignoring Gimli, which made Celede feel a bit better about being ignored earlier.

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" Gimli continued, ignoring Boromir. His words, however, were like a punch to Celede's gut. She had reached out to him as a friend, and he had just insulted her and her people. She hoped Gimli was just caught up in the moment and didn't actually mean what he said.

The other Elves seemed just as insulted. They rose up as one, suddenly talking over themselves in anger. Even Elladan and Elrohir both jumped to their feet. Although they were trying to calm the others down, their voices still added to the chaos.

Legolas held out a hand to keep his fellow Elves from attacking Gimli. Celede wasn't sure he would be able to hold them back, though, after Gimli shouted, "Never trust an Elf!"

Celede remained in her seat, as did Frodo, Elrond, Aragorn, and Gandalf, who shook his head in irritation. Then, with a heavy sigh, Gandalf stood up and joined in, trying to end the ruckus as well, but to no avail.

Meanwhile, Celede noticed Frodo staring at the Ring intently, as if it was telling him something. After a moment, a look of determination crossed his face. Her eyes widened as she realized what Frodo was about to do. He couldn't; he was too small and innocent!

_Frodo, no! It's not your burden to bear,_ she pleaded with him, sending her voice straight into his mind, since he wouldn't have been able to hear her otherwise. Frodo looked up at her, startled, but slowly shook his head at her words.

Celede bit her lip. There was nothing she could do to prevent Frodo from standing up and shouting, "I will take it!"

Suddenly, Celede felt tears burning behind her eyes. Frodo was so young, and yet here he was accepting a quest that no one else was willing to do. In saying those four little words, Frodo had shown himself to be the most courageous, most determined being at the Council. Celede had come to care for Frodo and for all of the hobbits, and she did not want Frodo to be the one to journey to Mordor. He would not come out of it, if he came out of it at all, as the same hobbit he was now.

The melee finally came to an end when Gandalf turned around, looking at Frodo with great tenderness. When all was quiet once more, Frodo spoke again.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though...I do not know the way."

His words were met with silence. Then Gandalf went to stand behind Frodo, placing his hand reassuringly on Frodo's shoulder.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear."

Although Celede still had half a mind to dissuade Frodo from taking up the quest, Gandalf had voiced her next thoughts exactly. She would help guide the Ring to Mount Doom, even though she would not be the one to toss it into the flames.

"If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will," Aragorn chimed in, kneeling before Frodo, "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow," added Legolas softly

Celede had been about to add herself in as well, but her words caught in her throat; Legolas would be part of this group as well? She couldn't even sit in a meeting with him without being torn over looking or not looking at him! What would it be like to have to fight alongside him and camp beside him? She shivered, though not completely uncomfortably, at the thought.

"And my axe," said Gimli, although he looked grimly at Legolas before coming over to join the growing party behind Frodo.

Celede rallied her courage.

"And you have my life," she said, striding forward to stand in front of Frodo, "For that is the greatest gift I can give to the success of this mission."

Aragorn, Elladan, Elrohir, Elrond, and surprisingly, Legolas, all cried out "No!" at the same time. She blinked at their vehemence.

"You will not go with them, I forbid it," Elrond continued forcefully.

_And why not?_ Celede thought to her father, unable to publicly disobey his orders.

_Because you know you cannot stay here when the Ring is destroyed. Even now, a ship is waiting to take you to the Undying Lands._

_ Then there is a ship now available to carry other Elves who wish to leave Middle Earth. _

_ This is a suicide mission, Celede. I will not have my daughter die on it. _

_ If it is a suicide mission, then why have you sent the others on it? Mithrandir and Estel and Legolas and Frodo? I know this has been your plan all along. You would not send them with the Ring into Mordor unless there was a chance they could succeed._

Elrond paused.

_I do not expect them all to survive, _he admitted, his voice a whisper in Celede's mind.

_But they all have a chance to, _he said more firmly. _If you accompany them to the end, I fear you do not. The odds are stacked against you, and I have foreseen your…Celede, I cannot allow what I have foreseen to come to pass. _

_ Father, I am but one person. If this mission does not succeed, you and I both know that the future of Middle Earth will be far worse than the death of one Elf. I am prepared to do whatever it takes to ensure the mission does not fail. You know I am just as capable a fighter, perhaps even more capable, as any who have already committed themselves._

_This isn't our fight, Celede. Why are you defending this cause so stubbornly?_

_Because you and I both want Arwen to be happy and alive. _

_Arwen is leaving for the Undying Lands, Celede! She will not disobey me as you do. _

Celede was angry now. She knew her father wanted to protect his daughters, but at the expense of their choices to be happy in life?

_I see I was wrong in saying you and I both want Arwen happy and alive. You simply want her alive, at the cost of her happiness. _

Elrond flinched at the anger in Celede's voice, but he did not respond likewise. Instead, his voice seemed older and more defeated than Celede had ever heard it before.

_Please, daughter, _he pleaded, _do not make me feel the pain of losing a child to this evil. I have already lost-_

_ You are going to lose one of us either way, _Celede replied sadly.

_And if you go on this mission, I may lose both of you. Can't you see why I will not allow it? _

_Father, with all due respect, it is not your place to allow it or not. I have made my choice._

_ If you go on this quest-_

_ Then what, Father? You'll banish me? Kill me? I am already going to die, but I intend to make my death worth something._

Without waiting for a response, Celede moved to stand beside Frodo. Elladan and Elrohir, standing tensely behind Elrond, both made a move to follow Celede, but Elrond quickly stopped them with a raised hand and a silent thought. The twins watched worriedly as their sister joined the group.

_I know what I'm doing, _she thought to her brothers. They didn't seem to believe her.

Boromir finally broke the tense silence between the family members, perhaps without even realizing it. Celede's entire conversation with her father had been completely silent, and part of her vaguely wondered how much time had passed and what her communication had looked like to the rest of the Council. Mostly though, Celede felt numb inside; never before had she directly disobeyed her father in such an important matter.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one," Boromir said to Frodo, "If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

Celede had started counting how many people had joined the group when a familiar voice interrupted her. From behind the bushes, she heard an indignant "Hey!"

Celede turned to see Sam come running up behind them to stand next to Frodo.

"Mister Frodo is not going anywhere without me," he said, crossing his arms.

"No, indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not," Elrond said with a forced smile, turning away from Celede to look at Sam. Celede was instantly suspicious. It was not like her father to so quickly brush aside what had just transpired between them.

Before she had time to dwell on it, though, she spied Merry and Pippin emerging from the pillars behind Elrond.

"Oi! We are coming too!" Merry cried.

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us," Merry added, as if that couldn't be done.

"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this mission…quest….thing," said Pippin.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip," Merry said quietly, but of course all of the Elves could hear him. Celede would have smiled if she hadn't felt so nervous and upset. Her father was definitely up to something, and now Frodo would not be the only hobbit risking his life on this mission! While she couldn't deny that she hated the fact the other hobbits were following Frodo into danger, Celede realized she would enjoy the company of the hobbits on the arduous journey ahead. The thought of her comfort at their expense made her even more disgusted with herself.

"Nine companions…" Elrond said slowly. Celede's eyes widened. There were clearly ten of them there! Her father looked at each and every one of the group, but carefully avoided looking at Celede.

"So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

There was a pause after that pronouncement. Celede felt raw fury take over her previous nerves. So that was what her father was doing; Elrond thought he could simply exclude her from the Fellowship and therefore keep her from leaving. She felt herself flush with embarrassment as the others, including Legolas, realized there were nine members alone standing behind Frodo. Even Pippin's innocent remark, "So where are we going?" did not lighten her mood, nor did it stop her from marching over to her father as soon as the Council was dismissed.

"I cannot believe that you have forgotten how to count, Father," she whispered fiercely, as other members of the Council were still departing.

"On the contrary, I believe I counted quite correctly," Elrond replied smoothly.

"Just because you didn't include me doesn't mean I haven't given my word to Frodo to protect him."

"I'm sure no one would begrudge you revoking that promise."

"I have no intention of revoking it. I am going with them, Father, whether you like it or not."

"If only this was about something as insignificant as my own personal preference," Elrond said, raising his voice as he never did with any of his children. By now, they were alone in the Council courtyard.

"This is far more than a simple 'I'd rather you not go', Celede," Elrond continued, "I'm not sure you understand the danger, being as naïve as you are. You have never been on a battlefield. You have never seen the utter desolation and hopelessness of Mordor, and I pray you never will. I will not lose a daughter to the madness of Middle Earth if I can prevent it, and I can! You will not go with them, do you understand me? I forbid it, and if you never heed any of my words ever again, you will obey my words now. You will take the ship to Valinor and you will leave the fate of Middle Earth to the ones who will be left to inhabit it."

"Even when Arwen will be among those who remain, as will Estel?! You say you love him as a son, but you don't seem to care what happens to him!" Celede cried furiously.

"I may have raised Estel, but he is a Man bound to this land in a way that we are not, and therefore it is perfectly reasonable for him to be a part of the quest. Surely you can understand that."

"How can you cast off the fate of Middle Earth to others so easily? Do you not care about this land at all? Do you not care about its fate, its potential downfall? You've lived here for thousands of years!"

"And now that time is coming to an end. The age of the Elves is over, Celede. I am not the only one who has foreseen this. Our people are leaving for the Undying Lands, and you and Arwen will too while you have the chance," Elrond replied sternly.

"Arwen will stay with Aragorn. She loves him with all her heart."

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" Elrond retorted tersely.

Celede couldn't believe her ears. Even Elrond seemed ashamed by his words. A stunned silence ensued.

"Dying is not the worst fate there is," Celede finally murmured, her voice cold, "Tearing someone away from true happiness is a far worse fate than killing them, for even in the Halls of Mandos one can find true peace. I cannot believe that you would tear Arwen away from a life of love and happiness just because you are selfish enough to want to keep her alive and with you forever."

"Celede, you misunderstood me. I did not mean to suggest-"

"Didn't you though, Father?" Celede said irritably, "Just because you regret saying the words aloud doesn't mean you regret believing them."

They looked in silence at each other for several more moments. Then Celede saw her father's eyes harden, and she knew she would never be able to convince her father to let her go. She would simply have to join the Fellowship without his consent.

"You fear losing a daughter so much," she said quietly, "that you'd do anything to keep her alive, even plot behind her back to force her to obey. But in doing so, Father, you have already lost that daughter, and that is no one's fault but yours."

Elrond visibly flinched at Celede's words, but at that moment she was too angry and upset to care. She had wanted her father's blessing more than anything for her last mission, and when she saw she would not receive it, she had lashed out at her father instead. For a moment, Celede had wanted to hurt her father as much as he had hurt her.

"I am leaving with or without your consent," she said with finality, "Good-bye, Father."

As she turned to leave, her father spoke again, but with a quiet coldness that was somehow worse than his raised voice.

"There are many possible futures," he began, "And though I have not foreseen them all, I can tell you now that the future you cling to is fading away. That path is dying, Celede, and you have been blinded by your naïve hope for a happy ending for Middle Earth. I am trying to protect you and your sister from the dark fate that seems to grow stronger every day, but you seem determined to cast my knowledge and experience aside to pursue your own foolish dreams. Do you understand me? You are a member of a people gifted with foresight. If you cannot see that the future you long for is hopeless, then you are a fool. And if you choose to leave on this ill fated quest tomorrow, then you are correct in saying that I will have lost my daughter."

Celede froze in place, shocked. She remained facing away from her father, unable to turn to look at him. Her father had never, ever, in all her hundreds of years of life, spoken to her so sharply or so cruelly. His words felt like icy knives stabbing into her heart and body. Her breathing came in short, shallow gasps, and she felt as if her father had physically wounded her. If she went on the quest, Elrond would disown her? He couldn't do something like that…could he?

Celede ran away from her father then, before he could see the hot tears that had begun rolling down her cheeks. Lord Elrond made no move to stop her as she raced to the comfortable privacy her rooms.

Unfortunately, Celede ran into Elladan and Elrohir as she left the Council clearing. Elrohir quickly ran past her to find Elrond, but Elladan remained with her as she wiped her face with her sleeve and tried to compose herself.

"Those were some harsh words spoken between you two," Elladan said quietly. Celede could only nod, still struggling to control her chaotic emotions.

"How much did you hear?" she finally choked out.

"We didn't hear anything distinct, just that both of your voices became raised at times."

Celede doubted that statement, but she didn't question him further. Instead, she looked down at her feet in shame. The leaves which had been blown around by the breeze so innocently earlier now seemed to be taunting her of the life in Rivendell she was forfeiting if she went on this quest.

"Celede," Elladan finally said, gently pulling her chin up to look at him, "I cannot stop you from leaving. You have made that very clear. But I must make sure you fully understand the task you have undertaken. You have often yearned for adventure, I know, but this isn't just another romp in the woods. When Elrohir and I leave on our missions to kill orcs and the like, we are the hunters. But when you leave with the Fellowship, you become the hunted. And not just by orcs, but by other dark beings I cannot even begin to fathom. There is no guarantee, nor even any likelihood, really, that the Fellowship will complete the mission or even survive."

Celede's heart ached to tell Elladan the truth, her true motivation for leaving. Whatever the outcome, Elladan would be left with only one sister. Celede was going to die if Sauron died, and Arwen was going to die if he lived. But Celede wanted her life to be meaningful, to be given up voluntarily in the effort to destroy Sauron instead of being stolen by him. She wasn't crazy, and she didn't have a death wish. Celede simply wanted to be in control of her life, and know that her life would not be for nothing.

But Elladan couldn't know all that. Celede was suddenly struck with the idea that it might even be better if she died on the quest; no questions would be asked and no one would feel guilt that Celede had been sentenced to death since before her birth. So maybe now, she did have a death wish. Maybe she _was_ crazy.

"I appreciate your concern, Elladan, but I promise I am not the naïve fool I once was. I understand the consequences, now more than ever. Since Arwen almost died on that voyage to Lothlorien, you may have noticed that I have never once asked to accompany you on your journeys. But this is different. Please believe me when I say that I have my reasons for wanting to destroy Sauron and the evil that threatens this land, or die trying."

Elladan sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. Celede was struck by how much he resembled their father at that instant.

"Then I would give you one last piece of advice, dear sister," he said, "Because you are going on a dangerous mission, you need to be prepared to die."

His words left Celede speechless. Even if he didn't know everything, Elladan was his father's son through and through.

"That doesn't mean give up when things get difficult, of course not," Elladan continued, "But you should have all your affairs in order before you leave. If you are forced to meet death in the face and follow him to the Halls of Mandos, then make sure you leave with no regrets. No words left unspoken to anyone that you wished you could have said."

Of course. Elladan was cautioning Celede about her recent argument with their father. She knew that Elladan was right, and she needed to make amends to her father before leaving. At the moment, though, she didn't know how. As his words repeated themselves over in her mind, she found her anger rising and her wish to make amends slowly disappearing. She had no idea how to take back the words she had spoken to her father, and she suddenly found she didn't want to. Elrond had been just as cruel to her; he should be the one to apologize to her.

"Thank you for your advice, Elladan," she said, keeping her voice as level as possible, "And thank you for not trying to stop me."

She felt Elladan wrap his arms around her and found herself hugging him back tightly.

"Well, if Father couldn't, then I don't stand a chance," he muttered, and Celede let out a half-laugh, half-sob. They held each other for a long moment

"I love you, little sister," Elladan said finally, "We all do. I pray you remember that."

"And I love you too, brother. More than you know."

Celede gently pulled away, and with a final smile at Elladan, left for her quarters.

Not long after she began trying to pack did Celede realize that there really wasn't much in her room that she could bring. All of her dresses and jewelry would be pointless on the journey, of course, but she only had one set of fighting attire. She lay out her long sleeved tunic, wrist greaves, skirt and leggings on her bed, once again admiring the creativity that had gone into making them feminine yet practical. Her bow and quiver of arrows were propped up by her door, as well as her long knife and throwing dagger. She rummaged through her wardrobe and found a warm, dark green cloak she could use for a blanket as well as a garment. All she needed now was food and the like, and that was already being prepared by other Elves in Rivendell.

The group planned to travel to Lothlorien, where they would be able to refresh and replenish their supplies for the next leg of the journey. Celede wasn't nervous about this first leg; she was very familiar with the route they would take, although she had never left so late in the year. The Fellowship was leaving the next day, however, so Celede was confident they could make it through the Pass before snow blocked their way.

Celede looked around her room. She realized she'd forgot her water canteen and rushed to retrieve it from a drawer and place it next to her other weapons. That being done, she turned around slowly and sat down on her bed. Her gaze was drawn suddenly to her nightstand, where a candle was burning steadily and casting flickering light about the room. Her thoughts were slowly drawn to the drawer below the candle, remembering what it held. Slowly, Celede opened the drawer.

The drawer was completely empty, save for a single twined piece of rope that was curled in a semicircle in the center of the drawer. Her "candy rope". She'd not had a seizure in a long time, and had nearly forgotten about the episodes. Celede knew she wasn't cured though, and never would be. At any moment, if she let her guard down, fear could trigger the spasms once more.

Without knowing why, she slowly picked up the candy rope; it hung limp and damp in her hand. Then, as if her body were acting of its own accord, Celede slowly brought the rope up to her mouth. She brought her teeth down onto the mesh of the rope gently, and the infusion of athelas, honey, and fruit juice quickly flooded her mouth. Although meant to be sweet, she'd only ever tasted that particular flavor in the midst of an episode, and so the rope tasted desperately bitter and foreign as well. She quickly took the rope out of her mouth, forcing herself not to spit out the juice.

Should she bring the candy rope with her? Celede knew she would be facing horrors beyond imagining. She'd be forced into situations she'd never been forced into before, and who knew what would trigger another seizure?

There came a knocking at her door, but she ignored it. If she did bring the rope, the others would find out about her affliction. Would they treat her differently because they thought her weak and incapable of controlling herself in times of fear? She was already trying so hard to make them see her as an equal, being the only female, and she didn't want them to have other reasons to give her special attention. It was Frodo, the Ringbearer, who required all of their attention, not her.

"Celede?"

Her door opened and Elrohir stepped inside. Celede jumped, startled, and threw the rope back into her drawer, slamming the drawer shut.

"Looking at something you shouldn't?" Elrohir teased.

"N-no, not at all. I was just-" Celede began, but Elrohir silenced her with a hand.

"It's quite alright. I don't need to know. After all, I did just enter your rooms uninvited. Although, in my defense, I did knock."

"Yes, I know. I was just thinking, I guess, and became lost in my thoughts. You are quite welcome to enter whenever you wish."

There was a small silence between them then.

"So…" Elrohir finally said, "You are going, then? On this ill-conceived journey into Mordor. Are you sure there's nothing I can do to stop you?"

"No, Elrohir."

Elrohir sighed.

"I didn't think so, but it was worth a try."

Another pause.

"Celede, I know you are hiding something. It's been gnawing at you ever since you were last in Lothlorien."

Celede stared at him with wide eyes. How much did he know?

"I'm your brother. I've known you all of your life, and I daresay I may know you even better than the others. After all, I knew about Seon. Is that what's troubling you, why you and Legolas have suddenly grown apart? Is this about Seon still?"

"No, of course not!" Celede said quickly, "Seon's long dead, and what happened that night I have long since recovered from."

Elrohir had been eyeing her suspiciously, but he heard the sincerity in her voice and relaxed.

"Then will you tell me what's troubling you?"

Here was another chance, perhaps her last one before she truly committed to the Fellowship. She could tell Elrohir everything and release herself from the burden of being one of the few people with the knowledge that she would die or evil would endure. Perhaps Elrohir could go with the Fellowship in her stead, and she could make it to the Undying Lands in time to live…but no. She'd already made her decision long ago, on that faithful day before the Mirror in Lothlorien.

"I-I can't tell you, Elrohir," was all she said in reply to his question. Celede couldn't put that weight on her brother's shoulders. He would be driven to desperation if he knew so suddenly that the success of the quest was vital to Arwen's survival but would inevitably cause Celede's death. At least Celede had had time to reconcile with the knowledge and prepare herself for what in her mind could be the only outcome.

Elrohir's shoulders sagged. Celede had already distanced herself from her father, though; she couldn't bear to lose Elrohir as well.

"It's not like that, Elrohir," she said softly, "I do trust you, and you're right, perhaps more than our other siblings. But some burdens need to be carried alone, for the sake of others. I'm only trying to protect you."

"Spoken like a true child of Elrond," Elrohir said, a smile slowly coming back to his face, "You are not the little girl I used to dance with around the gardens, nor the one I had the arduous task of teaching to shoot with a bow and arrow-"

Celede jabbed him in the ribs.

"-nor are you the irritating child who begged to come with Elrohir and me on our orc-hunting excursions. I am proud of you, little sister. You aren't so little anymore."

Celede couldn't help but smile at that, leaning in to her brother's shoulder and breathing in his woody, forest smell as he gently stroked her hair. If only she could remain this way forever, and tomorrow would never come.

"Are you taking that?"Elrohir said at last, gesturing to her night stand, "Your candy rope, I mean."

Elrohir, of course, knew where she kept the medicine, as he'd often had to fetch it for her in her youth. He must have noticed that that was what had caught her attention when he had first entered.

"Maybe," she said.

"I think you should. Orcs and trolls and nasty dark magic can give even the most stoic quite a shock."

Celede smiled.

"I will think about it," she said, although she suddenly had no intention of doing so. Celede couldn't appear weak in front of everyone. She hadn't had an episode in many years; she would be just fine.

"I will leave you to get some sleep, then, since you may not have another chance to sleep in a soft bed for quite a while," Elrohir finally said, breaking the silence.

"I will. I just want to check on my other supplies downstairs first."

Celede and Elrohir left her quarters at the same time. Elrohir noticed that Celede did not take her candy rope. Although she might pack it somewhere on her person in the morning, Elrohir didn't think she would. He doubted Celede would bring it; she hated showing any sign of weakness. Her answer to his inquiry was only a confirmation of his suspicions. So, Elrohir decided to do one last thing for his sister, a brotherly gesture that Celede would hopefully never find out about.

Celede saw Arwen on the balcony at the end of the hall and rushed to see her, her supplies momentarily forgotten. This gave Elrohir the chance to slip downstairs and make his way to the guest quarters. The Mirkwood Elves had been given the best quarters, being kinsmen, and Elrohir knocked quietly on the burnished wood of one of the doors.

Legolas opened the door and blinked in surprise upon seeing Elrohir.

"You can wish me good luck and bid me farewell tomorrow," Legolas greeted him with a yawn.

"Bah, you've never needed luck, you ridiculously talented Elf, and farewells are far too solemn for my liking," Elrohir replied before growing serious.

"I've come about Celede," he said, and Legolas's eyes widened in surprise and concern as he gestured for Elrohir to come inside. Elrohir took a deep breath; he was doing the right thing, he told himself, even though Celede might hate him for it.

"Legolas, there's something you should know…"


	13. Looking Ahead

**Back again! Hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

"Arwen."

"Sister."

Silence. Celede bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed. She didn't need to worry, though. Arwen broke the silence first.

"You are far braver than I," Arwen said quietly. Celede's eyes widened. She'd been expecting Arwen to ask her to reconsider her actions, as the rest of her family had already done. Instead, her sister was...complimenting her?

"I couldn't even attend the Council today," Arwen continued, "For I knew Aragorn would choose to join the Fellowship, and I couldn't bear to see him sacrifice himself in such a way. Imagine my shock to learn my little sister not only witnessed the Council's decisions, but volunteered herself for the quest as well. Now, two of the people most dear to me may not- may not return," Arwen finished, her words catching in her throat.

Celede bit her lip again, unable to tell Arwen that the best possible outcome meant she wasn't coming back.

Instead, she tried to lighten the mood, since her jarred nerves couldn't take much more.

"I will make sure Frodo finds his way into Mordor, and Aragorn finds his way back to you."

Unexpectedly, Arwen seemed to grow even more solemn.

"Even if I am no longer in Middle Earth?" she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Celede felt a cold shock run through her system.

"Has Father been speaking to you?" she asked coldly. Arwen's guilty look told Celede all she needed to know.

"Arwen, you cannot listen to him. Not this time!" Celede said fiercely, "Aragorn will be here for you when this is all over; you cannot abandon him."

"Celede, Father has told me that what he has foreseen-"

"What Father foresees is not set in stone. There are always other paths, no matter how dimly they shine in comparison."

"I have never disobeyed him before. I cannot-"

"Yes, you can," Celede said sharply, "You must. For your love of Aragorn-"

"Some things are simply not meant to be."

Celede couldn't believe her ears. She was risking everything for her sister's union with Aragorn, and to have her sister be the one to destroy everything was too much.

"How can you say that? I thought your love for him was stronger than that. You'd allow Father to end it so easily? I thought you loved him!"

Arwen glared at her sister then.

"Don't you dare, don't you dare say I don't love him. I love him more than life itself. My heart pines for him each and every moment we are not together. But maybe some things are simply not meant to be."

"Never say that," Celede replied, "If you believe that, if you give up hope, then you are lost."

The two sisters stared at each other for a long moment.

"You have grown wise while I've been looking away," Arwen finally said, "Very well, sister. As long as Aragorn is committed, I too will remain steadfast, no matter how hopeless I feel the situation is."

Celede breathed a sigh of relief and embraced her sister tightly.

"I fight for you," she whispered, the closest she would come to telling her sister the truth.

"Come back to me," Arwen replied, "Bring him back to me."

ooOOoo

The night passed too quickly into the next day. The sun shone cheerfully ignorant above the valley as Celede stood amongst the others in the Fellowship, preparing to leave. Legolas was looking at her with a peculiar expression, but for once she was too caught up in her thoughts to pay him any attention. A larger contingent of Elves, including her sister and father, stood by the entrance to bid them farewell. This time, Celede was on the receiving end of that farewell.

Lord Elrond presided over the farewell, wearing his customary brown robes and golden circlet. Celede avoided looking at her father, unsure of how she would be received. The best possible outcome of this quest meant that she would be leaving her father forever. Still, she did not know how to break the icy silence between them.

There was no emotion in Elrond's voice as he spoke to them in the Common Tongue.

"The Ringbearer is setting out on the quest of Mount Doom. On you who travel with him no oath nor bond is laid to go further than you will."

Celede closed her eyes. Her father was giving her one final chance to back out of the Fellowship. To stay in Rivendell and eventually leave for Valinor, as he wanted her to do. But in her heart, she knew her choice was final. It had been final ever since she had gazed into Galadriel's mirror. Elrond seemed to sag slightly as his words were met with silence.

"Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves and Men and all free folk go with you," he said, his voice strained.

Elrond spread his arms in customary farewell then, but only Celede, Legolas, and Aragorn returned the gesture in true Elvish fashion, with bowed heads and curved hands over their hearts.

Celede made eye contact then with each of her siblings. Elrohir was watching the farewell with a worried crease in his brow, but Elladan gave Celede an encouraging smile and nodded his head toward the exit. Arwen had been looking at Aragorn, her face somber, but her gaze quickly met Celede's when she realized her sister was looking at her. No words needed to be said between them, but Celede made sure to memorize every feature of her sister's face one last time to remember exactly who she was doing everything for.

"The Fellowship awaits the Ringbearer," came Mithrandir's voice from behind her. Now was the time, in fact it was almost too late, to make amends with her father. But at that moment, Celede couldn't even bring herself to meet Lord Elrond's gaze. She was terrified of what she would find, unsure which emotion would be the last she would see on her father's face.

The Fellowship began to move out, and still Celede stood rooted to the spot. She couldn't let her last words to her father be words of rage, but everything was moving too quickly now. She needed time to think, time she didn't have any longer. Frodo left through the gate, followed by Gandalf and the rest, until it was only Aragorn standing beside her. Then he gently touched her arm. Celede wanted to tell them all to stop, that she needed to beg her father for forgiveness first, but her body numbly obeyed Aragorn, and the pair stepped out under the archway together.

When Celede finally came to her senses, she stopped abruptly and turned around. To her surprise and disappointment, they had already turned away from the entrance to her home, and her father was no longer visible. Celede took a shaky breath. She had just left her father without saying good-bye. She would never have the chance now.

"Celede?" Aragorn asked quietly, "Are you alright? We must move with haste, or we will fall behind before we even leave Rivendell."

"Yes, I know. It's just-" _my last words to my father were full of anger. _

Instead, Celede said, "It's just hard to leave your home. This was simply a meeting place for the others, but for me, Imladris is my home."

"It is mine as well. But cheer up, I'm sure your father will keep your room clean for you until you return," said Aragorn, trying for a joke. Celede only felt her heart sink. Would he? Would she ever return?

The Fellowship silently trekked out of the valley just as the sun's rays pierced downwards, illuminating Rivendell one last time. Again, Celede paused, but this time Legolas came to her instead of Aragorn.

"The hardest part is leaving. Once you stop looking behind you and start looking ahead, things will get easier. I promise," he said gently.

Celede shrugged and began to continue walking.

"I have left my entire family," she whispered, so only Legolas could hear her.

"You have Estel," Legolas said simply, "And you have me."

With that, Legolas reached out and took her hand. It was enough to shock Celede out of her daze. She looked first at their clasped hands, then up into Legolas's shocking blue eyes, which smoldered with a renewed intensity. Celede quickly looked away, but she didn't let go of his hand. His strength and warmth gave her courage, and she couldn't let go of that just yet.

"Looking forward," she muttered to herself. Legolas smiled silently beside her.

The Fellowship traveled for days, walking while the sun was up and only stopping to rest or eat. Being an Elf, Celede had a greater endurance than the other races of Middle Earth, but she was surprised at how well everyone else held up as the days passed. Pippin would constantly complain, but Celede thought that was more because he was bored of walking than because he was actually tired.

"Merry, I need a distraction from the mind numbing pastime of walking all day," Pippin complained one night as they sat around the campfire, "Tell me a story."

"You know all my stories, Pip," Merry replied, "Ask someone else."

"Oh perfect! We can have some quality bonding time as a Fellowship!" Pippin said in delight. He was met with silence.

"Alright, how about I start?" he asked, unfazed. He cleared his throat.

"My name is Peregrin Took, but most call me Pippin. I'm the son of Paladin Took and Eglantine Banks. Um…oh, yes. I have three darling older sisters: Pearl, Pimpernel, and Pervinca. I find drinking to be a very enjoyable pastime, but only in measured quantities. Eating is also quite an exciting part of the day. Hmm…what else? I know I'm the youngest in this group, but I'll have you know that I am easily underestimated. I can hold my own with the best of them."

"Sword-wise or drinking?" Sam muttered under his breath. Celede tried hard not to smile.

"If you are so eager to talk, why don't you tell us about yourself next?" Pippin asked indignantly. Sam flushed, uncomfortable with being the center of attention.

"Well, I'm the baby of my family, too," he began, "I've got five older siblings and a sweet old mum and of course, my old Gaffer. I'm Master Frodo's gardener because I love just about anything that grows. I figure, if this dark Sauron takes over all of Middle Earth, then not many things will be able to grow, will they? So he's really got to be stopped."

At the reminder of their quest, the conversation slowed into silence. Pippin was determined to lighten the mood though, so he turned towards Legolas, who was sitting between Celede and Aragorn. Legolas still couldn't believe he had reached out to Celede in such a way as they left Imladris. She had looked so lonely and dejected, making his heart ache for her, and he had wanted to ease her pain. He was shocked that Celede had responded to his gesture in the way she had, and they had not released their hands until late that evening. Ever since then, Celede had seemed more relaxed around Legolas, and that had caused him to loosen up around her as well. He realized that he couldn't stay angry with her, and although she confused him still, Legolas found himself eager to rekindle the friendship they had shared long ago. He glanced at Celede in mock horror upon being targeted by Pippin.

"So, Mr. Elf, sir, where do you come from?" Pippin pressed.

"Middle Earth."

"Well, yes, that is a bit obvious. I was hoping for a bit more information. Let's start with…your family. Who are your parents? How is it you came to be at the Council of Elrond? That sort of thing."

"Lord Elrond summoned my father, but he had other matters to attend to, being the King of Mirkwood."

Gimli made a disgruntled noise into his soup, and Legolas glanced at him sharply.

"Does that upset you in some way, Dwarf?" he asked sharply. Celede placed a calming hand on his arm.

"If we are to succeed as a team, we must put these petty arguments about the past aside," she interrupted, "I know the Elves of Mirkwood have no love of Dwarves, and the Dwarves share that sentiment, but here we are separate from those quarrels. We have all pledged to fight for the safety of Middle Earth, to protect all of the races that live in it. There is no room for fighting amongst ourselves. We will be fighting our enemies soon enough, and we can only hope to defeat them if we trust each other."

Celede's words were met with silence. Gandalf looked at her with pride, and the hobbits did not hide their amazement at her sudden speech, but the others remained inscrutable. Celede sighed. If the Fellowship could not get along with each other, how were they supposed to succeed?

Finally, Boromir spoke.

"Pretty words from a pretty lady," he said haughtily.

"And what do you mean by that?" Celede asked sharply. Although they were all huddled about the campfire, a distinct chill settled over the group.

"Simply that you speak ignorantly of the world if you think everyone in it can coexist in such a way," Boromir replied. Celede opened her mouth to protest, but Boromir interrupted her.

"I do not mean to offend, young maiden. I have nothing but the greatest respect for you. It is not your fault that you have lived a sheltered life thus far-"

"Sheltered?" Celede exclaimed angrily, "I have seen death, Boromir. I have seen orcs and felt their hot black blood spurt from a wound I created. I can kill using a sword, a knife, or a bow and arrow, with greater skill than you. Sheltered? I wouldn't call that a sheltered life. And it is you who are ignorant of my meaning. I don't claim that all of Middle Earth must cooperate, but only the ten of us."

Boromir seems surprised at her words, but he quickly emptied his face of all emotion.

"It isn't right, having a lady on this journey," he whispered under his breath, but of course, Celede could hear him. She made a move to rise, but it was Legolas't turn to put a placating hand on her arm, reminding her to think about her actions.

"I hope someday that we can come to an agreement, Boromir, in which we do not view each other solely on such superficial grounds," she said.

Boromir shrugged. Feeling particularly frustrated, Celede left the fire early to find a place to sleep. She heard the other members reprimanding Boromir for his words to her, but she still declined to talk to anyone for the rest of the evening.

The next night, Pippin attempted to break the ice that had settled over the Fellowship after the tension between Boromir and Celede. He decided to ask Celede about her background. Although she had said only the night before that everyone needed to trust each other in the Fellowship, she found that she was not completely comfortable sharing her past with all of them.

"My father is Lord Elrond of Rivendell, as you all are already aware of."

Pippin would not give up though.

"So does that mean you are a princess? Are you telling me we have a prince and princess of the Elves amongst us?" He raised his eyebrows knowingly. Celede flushed slightly.

"Not quite. My father is not a king. He does not rule over Rivendell. He watches over the valley and keeps it safe, but the Elves who live under him are free to do as they wish. Therefore, my father is Lord of Rivendell, and my mother is a Lady of Rivendell. I too am a Lady of Rivendell. I suppose if anything were to happen to my father, my siblings and I would take his place in caring for Imladris, so in that way I am a sort of princess. But mostly Rivendell is not a kingdom and therefore has no royal family in that way."

"Which one was your mother? Did I see her in Rivendell?" Pippin inquired innocently. Aragorn inhaled sharply, but Celede calmly looked Pippin in the eye when she responded.

"My mother fell victim to the evil in this land."

Silence descended again, and Celede hated the looks of pity she was receiving from the hobbits, Gimli, and even Boromir.

"We will avenge her for you, my lady," Merry said quietly. His stoicism brought a smile to Celede's lips.

"We will make sure evil cannot hurt anyone else," she agreed.

Pippin's chatter soon moved on to the other members, leaving Celede alone to think. It was the first time she had talked about her father aloud since leaving Rivendell, and her heart ached with longing and regret. She remembered the sound of his voice, soft and lilting, as he told her a story about his travels or guided her in her studies. Then she remembered the last time she had spoken to him. There was anger in his voice, but also fear, and Celede hated the anger in her voice far more. She could forgive her father, but she could never forgive herself, she thought as she lay down on yet another unfamiliar patch of ground. With tears in her eyes, Celede drifted off to sleep.

_Lord Elrond stood at the edge of a plateau of dust and dead grass. Dead leaves swirled at his feet as fog and smoke filled the air. Before him was a landscape of dust, smoke, and volcanoes spewing bright lava and black debris into the air. The sounds of screams and eerie chanting carried on the wind. Celede's father seemed out of place. His warm maroon robes and long dark hair gently billowed about him despite the heat and terror of the place. _

_He took a step forward, edging closer to the end of a precipice that ended in a dark chasm Celede could not see the bottom of. She tried to go to him, but found she could not move._

"_Father!" she cried desperately, "Get away from there! Step towards me!"_

_Her father's head tilted in her direction, one pointed ear listening to her words but his eyes were staring ahead, ignoring her._

"_Father, please, it's me!" Celede screamed again, "Listen to me or you are going to fall!"_

_He continued to ignore her._

"_Father, please! Trust me. It's me, Celede, your daughter!" _

_At those words, Elrond stiffened and turned his head away, his posture determined. Celede saw what was going to happen, but could do nothing to stop it. Elrond raised his foot, stepped forward-_

"_FATHER!"_

Celede wrenched herself out of the dream with a choked gasp, bolting to a sitting position. Breathing heavily, she glanced around her. The sky was just beginning to grow lighter with the onset of morning, and the others were still asleep. Boromir and Gandalf were keeping watch and chatted quietly with each other. They were on the other side of the campsite and hadn't noticed Celede. The hobbits slept nestled to each other, with Frodo in the middle. Aragorn and Gimli were sleeping next to each other, closest to the fire, while Legolas slept apart from the others, just as Celede had been.

Celede observed his still figure in the grey light. Legolas lay on his back, with his blonde hair splayed out beneath him. One hand rested on his chest and rose and fell as he breathed, while the other rested on his bow beside him. Celede longed to lie down in his other side and feel secure and comforted in his arms. But that would never happen. Celede was truly alone on this journey, having pushed away those she loved most. She lay back down and stared at the stars, tears welling in her eyes again, but she refused to let them fall. Then she curled up into her cloak and lay still and silently, until the sun rose at last and it was time to begin walking again.

From that night on, Celede could not sleep without having nightmares. She often dreamed of a memory of her father, but the memory would quickly transform into horror and terror. Her father would stop speaking to her and turn away, plunging into some unforeseen danger that no amount of screaming on Celede's part could deter him from. When she thought the dreams couldn't get any worse, Elladan and Elrohir began to appear. They would look at her with pain and sorrow as they followed their father into the unforeseen danger and left her behind. Even Arwen appeared once, cursing and yelling at Celede for tearing apart their family and causing so much pain.

Although Celede could dismiss these dreams as unreal, she also began to have vivid dreams of her family in Rivendell. She dreamed of Elladan and Elrohir practicing swordplay with each other, but both of their faces remained uncharacteristically grim, and she could tell their hearts were not in it. She dreamt of Arwen standing before the shards of Narsil, lost in thought as tears streamed from her face. Worse still, Celede dreamed of her father standing on his balcony, his head bowed with grief and his ring pulsing weakly as he collapsed to his knees and Belaraniel rushed to his aid. These images made Celede wonder if her dreams were not actually dreams but visions. If these were visions, what was to stop her other nightmares from becoming reality as well? Although she desperately told herself everything was a dream, the idea that her foresight was contributing some truth to her night visions terrified her. She thought about her family through the night, during breaks, and during the long hours of their trek. What if something had happened in Rivendell? Would she be able to feel it if anything did?

Soon Celede was having difficulty keeping up with the group. Her legs felt numb with exhaustion, but she couldn't relax at night as her muscles stayed tense with every nightmare. She heard worried whispers between Merry and Pippin, and Frodo and Sam. Boromir complained that as he'd said before, this journey was no place for a maiden, no matter how inhuman. Celede ignored everything, even the attempts by Aragorn or Legolas to cheer her. She was utterly lost in her thoughts of home. Celede hadn't anticipated such worry or homesickness on the journey. Plagued with guilt that she had devastated her father and fear that Arwen would be persuaded to leave Middle Earth and destroy Celede's mission, Celede had once again found herself falling behind when she stumbled over a root. A firm hand caught her arm and pulled her upright.

"Careful now," Mithrandir said softly, deliberately slowing down with her as the rest of the Fellowship pulled ahead.

"Something is troubling you, little one," he continued, "Would you like to share your burdens with an old man? I've found that burdens are hardest to bear when one carries them alone."

"Do you have the gift of foresight?" Celede asked miserably.

"I have not been blessed with that particular talent like your grandmother has," Gandalf said, "But sometimes I can reasonably predict the outcomes of events. If I were to eat an entire chocolate cake, for example, I foresee that I would definitely not be feeling well in the hours after."

Celede didn't crack a smile at his joke.

"I have inherited some of Galadriel's talent," she continued, "And I am afraid that what I see is real. I am so plagued by these visions that I cannot sleep at night, Mithrandir. Falling behind has nothing to do with me being a maiden or not."

"Don't let Boromir's words affect you," Gandalf said firmly, "He is an outlandish Man with many more flaws than his inability to accept you in the group. I am certain that the rest of us are grateful you are here."

Celede shrugged without emotion.

"But tell me child, what are these visions you see? I will try to help you in any way I can."

"I see my family. Sometimes they are in grave danger in an unknown territory, but sometimes they are ill and grieving in Rivendell. I cannot distinguish reality from my own imagination. You see, Mithrandir," Celede's voice was choked, "I argued with my father just before we left, and I never resolved the issue. I never told him I was sorry. If I die on this journey, I will never be able to make things right. I hurt my father deeply, and now I cannot forgive him and I cannot forgive myself."

Mithrandir looked at Celede with tenderness and sympathy.

"Your father loves you more than you know, Celede, and he is stronger than you give him credit for. I think he knows that you did not mean everything you said to him in your anger, just as he may not have meant everything he said to you. I know it is difficult to be separated from your family, but don't let these visions cause you such worry. It is in here-" Gandalf put a hand over his heart, "-that you are closest to your family, not in your head. Have you felt in your heart that something has happened to them?"

Celede pondered this for a moment.

"No," she said at last, but with growing conviction, "If what you say is true and I would feel it in my heart if something happened to my family, then no, my family is still alright. They are still alive and safe."

Mithrandir smiled.

"Then ease your fear over them, and focus on taking care of yourself. You are in far more danger and peril than they as a member of this quest. Sometimes nightmares are simply bad dreams and not foresight."

"You are wise beyond words, Mithrandir," Celede said softly, feeling her mind relax as it had not done in many days.

"Oh no, words have taught me much," Gandalf replied cheerfully, turning his head away from Celede to glance up the road, "Oh, look! The rest of them have finally chosen to take a break. We will catch up to them in no time."

Celede looked up the path as well. Most of them were taking the time to sit and relax their weary legs, but she saw Legolas remained standing, watching them approach.

"You were close to Legolas once, weren't you?" Mithrandir asked suddenly. Celede glanced at the wizard, but he was looking innocently ahead.

"Yes, I was," Celede whispered.

"Did he turn you away?"

"What?" Celede asked, startled, "No, nothing like that…It was I who turned him away."

"Whatever for? Don't tell me you don't have feelings for him, my dear. Even without my millennia of experience, I could be blind and still feel your affection for him."

Celede's cheeks tinged with red.

"I am not good enough for him," she said. Mithrandir frowned.

"Are you talking about your affliction? Those spasms are no fault of yours, Celede."

Celede looked at Mithrandir with surprise.

"You know? About-" she stuttered.

"Of course I know, dear. I was one of the first your father came to for aid when your affliction was discovered so long ago. Is that why you feel you aren't worthy for Legolas?"

"It's not that I'm not worthy," said Celede slowly. A thought occurred to her. If her father had confided in Mithrandir, the wizard might even know what the evil would do to her in the end. She decided to let Mithrandir into her thoughts just slightly, trying to relieve her burden of the inevitable end of herself or Arwen without explicitly saying it out loud.

"But if the evil inside me kills me, or if I am killed on this journey, I do not want to cause Legolas pain."

"I think you are already causing him pain, Celede," Mithrandir said gently, "Just as you are causing yourself pain in trying to separate yourself from him. Perhaps you should let him decide if he is willing to take the risk. I believe you thought it unfair of Aragorn to try to change Arwen's mind when she chose to love him. But now you are ignoring your own words of wisdom by not giving Legolas a chance."

"It's not the same-"

"Isn't it?" Gandalf asked, "And I'm sure he will watch over you throughout this journey. He will not let anything happen to you."

"But that's the last thing I want," Celede said, "Every person's task as a member of this Fellowship is to ensure that this quest succeeds, and to do that, Frodo is the one we must all watch over. I can't let him care for me, Mithrandir. I won't let anyone in this Fellowship choose me over Frodo."

Mithrandir sighed, and Celede knew she had spoken the truth. She said no more as they finally rejoined the group. Aragorn handed Celede a water skein, and she took it silently. Although she believed completely in what she had told Mithrandir, Celede couldn't help but reflect on what Mithrandir had said. Perhaps she _was_ being hypocritical. Lost in thought, she didn't notice she was looking at Legolas until he made eye contact with her, and then she smiled ever so slightly. Legolas's eyes widened in surprise, but he returned the smile without hesitation and Celede felt her heart lift.

That night, as the Fellowship prepared to retire for the night beside the dying campfire, Celede took a deep breath as she walked over to where Legolas was laying down his cloak to sleep on. He paused as she approached, but Celede said nothing.

"May I help you, my lady?" he finally asked, not looking up.

"How many times have I asked you to call me Celede?" Celede said.

"How can I help you-" Legolas paused for only a moment, "-Celede?"

"Well, I was wondering if- Could I perhaps," Celede said hesitantly, "sleep here for the night?"

At this, Legolas looked up in surprise.

"Would you like me to move?"

"No no no, that's not what I meant," Celede said hastily, "I meant...I'd like to sleep beside you tonight."

Legolas raised an eyebrow at her, and she found herself quickly trying to make up reasons that did not reveal to him her true motive.

"It has been cold these past few nights, and the hobbits look so warm bundled up next to each other. I was on watch last night and I could use a soothing night's rest tonight. I would have asked Estel, only Estel is on watch tonight. I can't ask Gimli since I don't think we are good enough friends for that, and of course I can't ask Boromir. I suppose if I was truly desperate I could ask Mithrandir-yes, perhaps I will. I'm so sorry to bother. Forgive me for even asking-"

Legolas was grinning at her, and Celede felt herself blushing as she trailed off, not sure what else to say. She couldn't tell Legolas that the sight of him eased her mind off of her family, or that she hoped that sleeping beside him would help calm her nightmares. Not after what she had said to him so long ago, especially since she still planned to stand by her words.

"Of course, my lady-Celede," Legolas hastily amended as he slid over. Celede lay down gratefully beside him and promptly turned her back to him. Legolas lay facing her for a moment, utterly puzzled by her actions, before he rolled over and fell into a light sleep.

Legolas was woken up in the middle of the night by a sudden movement beside him. The sky was pitch black except for a sprinkling of stars, and crickets chirped in the grass around him. The movement continued, and Legolas turned over to see Celede tossing and turning on the ground next to him. She was still asleep, but clearly in some sort of distress. Her golden hair lay tangled beneath her, more unruly than he had ever seen before. Her face was frowning as she rolled back and forth. Her brow was furrowed and he heard her muttering "Ada," the Elvish word for Father, over and over again.

Legolas didn't want to wake her, but he couldn't ignore her agitation. He gently pushed the hair out of her face. She whimpered in her sleep like a wounded dog, and Legolas grabbed her hand instinctively, holding it to his chest. Her hand was ice cold, as was her wrist and lower arm. She seemed to respond to his touch though, and her movements began to slow down. As she turned one final time away from Legolas, he pulled her to him, trying to pour his warmth into her cool body. She sighed deeply, and Legolas froze, afraid Celede had woken up. But her breathing continued steadily in sleep. She even snuggled closer into him, and Legolas thought with a sense of pleasure that their bodies fit against each other perfectly.

He decided he would hold her just until she was warm enough, and then he'd let her go again. She would never know what he'd done, he thought sleepily to himself. For a moment, he simply enjoyed the smell of her hair, like flowers and crisp mountain dew, and the gentleness of her breathing. Eventually her steady breaths began to lull Legolas's eyes closed, and he knew he should pull away before he fell asleep. Just one more moment, he told himself sleepily, one more breath. But before he knew what had happened, Legolas had drifted off to sleep.

The early morning rays of sunlight woke Celede. With eyes still shut against the morning, Celede leaned closer to the warmth behind her. For the first time in what felt like forever, she had woken up in peace and without any memory of a nightmare. She rolled over to bury her face into the strong chest that was the source of the warmth. The smell of leaves and trees filled her lungs and Celede sighed with pleasure. Then she opened her eyes slowly and raised her head to see the sleeping face of Legolas above her.

With a yelp, she scuttled away from him, but he had had his arms wrapped around her and woke at her sudden movement.  
>"What-" he began blurrily, until he saw Celede watching him and his eyes flew open.<p>

"Celede, I'm so sorry-"

"I don't know what I was thinking," Celede said at the same time. Both of them looked at each other worriedly, each afraid that they had crossed a boundary that the other would not forgive.

"I should pack; I think we will be leaving soon," Celede said quickly.

"Of course. I think you're right," Legolas replied. They both jumped awkwardly to their feet and almost bumped heads.

"I'm sorry-"

"Sorry-"

As one, they turned away from each other, blushing, and began to pack their things.

Celede spent breakfast and the entire morning's walk avoiding Legolas. What had she done last night? How had she ended up in Legolas's arms? Had he felt her press her face into him that morning? If he had, how could she explain herself?

Celede was able to avoid Legolas so easily because he was avoiding her too. He berated himself for falling asleep with her in his arms. What must she have thought? Could he claim it was merely something that had happened in sleep? That the night had indeed been particularly cold?

Celede remained in the rear of the line as Legolas remained up front with Mithrandir. They were crossing hill after hill dotted with short trees and the occasional large rocky outcroppings or boulders. Celede had remained silent thus far, until Pippin fell back to talk to her.

"I've heard Elvish voices are the sweetest in the land," he said to Celede, "If you wouldn't mind passing the time this way, I would be honored to hear you sing one for us."

Sam heard this and inconspicuously dropped behind as well. Soon, all four hobbits were crowded around Celede as they walked.

"What songs can I sing? You wouldn't understand them anyway," she said.

"Anything. I wouldn't mind," Sam said, "I heard Wood Elves singing in the woods outside the Shire once. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard. Remember that, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo nodded, "If it's not too much to ask, Lady Celede, it would be a wonderful way to pass the time."

Celede relented.

"Fine, young hobbits, I will do as you ask," she said at last to the eager smiles of the hobbits.

"But I must warn you, Elvish songs are usually meant to be sung in groups. Alone, my song may not live up to the music you remember hearing, Master Gamgee."

"I'm sure it will, my lady." Sam said quickly. Celede smiled at him, then closed her eyes for a moment and began to sing. She sang a song she had loved as a child, which her father had taught to her. They used to sing it in a duet in front of a warm, crackling fire, and Celede let the pain of parting with her father out through the song. It began with a lament for the end of autumn, for the leaves that died and the animals that fled into a long winter slumber. Then it began to transform, just as the seasons did, into a celebration of winter. She sang of the beauty of snowflakes and icicles and the brisk cold that was sweet and crisp to breathe. When the song finally came to a close about the eternal passage of time, the hobbits remained silent, holding on to the last remnants of Celede's clear, bell-like voice.

"That was beautiful, my lady," Merry said at last.

"Can you teach me a song like that?" Pippin asked eagerly, "Surely you must know some song in the Common Tongue that you could teach me."

"Leave her alone, Pip, she's already done what we asked," Merry scolded him.

"No, no, I would be honored to teach you a song, Pippin," Celede said quickly. She was enjoying this moment with the hobbits, something she had rarely had the chance to do on this quest. She thought for a moment.

"This one might do," she finally said, "It is a song that fits our journey, I think."

She began to sing again. This tune was far more melancholy than the one before it, but no less beautiful. The hobbits were even further touched by it, since they understood its message.

"Home is behind

The world ahead

And there are many paths to tread

Through shadow

To the edge of night

Until the stars are all alight

Mist and Shadow

Cloud and Shade

All shall fade

All shall fade"

"Well, I suppose I could learn that one," Pippin said breathlessly when Celede finished, her voice trailing off into silence. Celede smiled, seeing that Pippin was indeed touched by the song.

Celede was surprised at how quickly Pippin caught on to the lyrics and the minor nuances of the melody. Soon he was singing the main part, and Celede was adding accompaniment to him. As Mithrandir slowed for another break around midday, Legolas joined the hobbits and Celede. Celede flushed and looked away, making a point of scanning the ground for kindling.

"She has a beautiful voice, doesn't she," Legolas addressed the hobbits, to Celede's surprise. He had heard her?

"One of the finest in all of Middle Earth," Sam replied, and the others quickly agreed. Unable to help it, Celede looked up. Legolas met her eye with a small smile. Celede smiled back nervously, then quickly looked away.

The days continued to pass as the Fellowship continued their trek. During breaks, Boromir began to teach the hobbits, especially Merry and Pippin, how to wield the swords they had been given at Rivendell.

"Firm grip, but loose enough that the sword has some leeway. It's an extension of your arm, but as if your arm has another joint. That's it, Merry."

Aragorn watched these lessons and helped where he could.

"Not too loose, Pippin. You don't want to drop it."

Meanwhile, Legolas and Celede kept up their skills by sparring with each other. Celede was thrilled that her years of practice with Elladan and Elrohir were finally paying off, and she could hold her own against an experienced fighter like Legolas. He fought with two long daggers, while she fought with just one and her small throwing dagger. He struck with one, then the other, and she parried with both her long dagger and small knife. She spun and thrust, but he easily sidestepped and she was forced to parry again. Then he was spinning and she was the one leaping gracefully away in the dance they shared.

When the hobbits tired, they would drop their weapons and watch the Elves' antics. Boromir seemed shocked by Celede's skill, and Aragorn thought smugly that Celede could best Boromir in battle any day. She and Legolas moved so quickly that he, although highly experienced in the fighting style of the Elves, could barely follow them. He watched her leap straight up to avoid a sideswipe from Legolas, only for him to jump off the side of nearby rock and meet her in the air. Merry and Pippin cheered for Celede, but Sam and Frodo would just watch the mock battle intently, trying to keep track of every move. Sometimes Legolas would catch Celede's long dagger at the right angle and twist, disarming her, but just as often Celede would dive in and place her throwing dagger gently against Legolas's throat to show him she had won. They always ended breathing hard and with smiles on their faces. Neither mentioned that night together, and both acted as if it never happened. Celede continued to sleep closer to Legolas, but she made sure to stay more than a body length away.

During one such break for the midday meal on top of a hill covered with fallen rocks and sand, Sam was cooking food over the campfire. Boromir and Aragorn were teaching the hobbits, and for once, Legolas and Celede were simply watching the lessons instead of fighting between themselves.

"Two, one, five," Boromir called out positions to Pippin as they sparred, "Good. Very good."

Legolas was watching the fight with a small smile on his face. Celede swiped a small loaf of bread from the fire, split it in two, and handed one half to Legolas. He took it absentmindedly, and she grinned at his focus on the hobbits. Then she heard Gimli's voice talking to Gandalf behind them.

"If anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I note they're not, I'd say we were taking the long way round. Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome."

"Balin?" Celede said suddenly, "Was he part of Thorin's fellowship? I remember him well. He was one of the more polite members of the thirteen."

Mithrandir looked at Celede gravely and removed the pipe he was smoking from his mouth.

"Yes, that would be Balin. Your memory is quite keen," he said to her. Then he turned to Gimli.

"No, Gimli, I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice."

Celede was about to ask why when she noticed a strange dark shadow in the otherwise clear and sunny sky. She took a step backwards and tapped Legolas on the shoulder.

"Legolas? Do you see that?"

Legolas turned away from the hobbits and immediately leaped to his feet, staring intently at the spot she had pointed out. He jumped nimbly onto a rock to get a better view, but Celede worried that he was putting himself out into the open. Gandalf turned to look as well.

Pippin was still fighting Boromir, and the others had not noticed the strange cloud. Celede tried to warn them, but suddenly Boromir missed and whacked Pippin's hand. Merry and Pippin leaped on Boromir in retaliation.

"Stop it!" Celede said.

Aragorn glanced at her and then at the cloud. He quickly tried to break up the fray.

"Gentlemen, that's enough!" was all he was able to say before the hobbits knocked him too to the ground, dazing him.

"What is that?" Sam asked aloud, spotting the cloud as well.

"Nothing. Just a wisp of cloud," Gimli answered.

"It's moving fast," Boromir added, "Against the wind."

Celede glanced back for just a moment to see he had finally stood up and grown serious. Then she turned her attention back to the cloud. Boromir's words reminded her of what she had said once, long ago. She realized with a jolt that that cloud was no flock of birds.

_Elladan, what is that? That flock of birds: it's moving quite quickly._

She opened her mouth to speak, but Legolas said it first.

"Crebain from Dunland!"

"Hide!" Aragorn shouted, running to retrieve his sword and get Frodo to safety.

"Cover! Take cover!" he cried. Sam rushed to extinguish the fire and Frodo grabbed his pack before running under a rocky outcropping. Upon seeing that Frodo was hidden, Celede scanned her surroundings for her own hiding place. She saw a small space created by two rocks falling against each other and ran for it. She reached the hole and turned around to face the opening, searching for Legolas now. When she couldn't find him, she supposed it meant he was safely hidden as well.

Each moment that passed was filled with tension. Celede barely breathed as the flock swooped over them with angry, menacing caws that Celede remembered from the last time she had heard the birds, when she had hidden with her brothers during a day of swordplay.

Finally, and just as suddenly as they had appeared, the flock flew off, leaving the Fellowship alone. They continued to wait in their hiding places, until they could be sure the flock was gone. Mithrandir was the first to emerge for his hiding place, and slowly, everyone else began to creep back out of their hiding places to watch the flock disappear into the distance.

"Did they see us?" Merry asked worriedly.

"Spies of Saruman!" Gandalf proclaimed, "The passage South is being watched."

"Then it doesn't matter if they did," Celede answered Merry, "We cannot keep going that way."

She glanced at Gimli, who was looking at Gandalf expectantly. Gandalf turned away, however, towards a great, snow-covered mountain.

"We must take the Pass of Caradhras."

The Fellowship moved out immediately, wishing to vacate the site as soon as possible. As they set off once more, Legolas fell into step with Celede.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," Celede said tightly, "Don't worry about me. Worry about Frodo."

**Disclaimer: You may recognize the song Celede teaches Pippin- I take no credit for it!**


	14. Difficult Decisions

_**So sorry for the looong wait! I promise I haven't forgotten this story. If I ever plan to stop writing it, I will definitely make an announcement, but not today! :-)  
><strong>_

The path of Caradhras was difficult for them all. Not only were there rocks to climb over and steep paths to scale the side of the mountain, but the snow and ice made conditions even more treacherous. The Fellowship made slow progress, heads miserably tucked beneath hoods as the wind howled in fury around them. The snow made everyone cold, and every night, they had difficulty preparing a campfire. More than once during the day, Celede had to reach out to catch a hobbit from losing balance. She caught Boromir instinctively once, but he quickly pulled away from her with an angry grunt. Even her own sure Elvish footing stumbled a few times. She usually managed to catch herself, but once she slipped and would have fallen ungracefully onto her hands and knees if a strong, stable hand hadn't grabbed her elbow and righted her. Celede turned to see Legolas, his hood tossed back and hair whipping around his face as he cautiously watched her for a reaction.

Ever since the crebain scare, Celede had kept her distance from him. She had not been cold or mean to him in any way but instead had tried to gradually drift away from him. They no longer sparred with each other or slept near each other. It tore at Celede's heart to move away from Legolas in such a way, but she had to set things right once more. She had promised herself and told Legolas that they could not be together. As much as she might hate it in the moment, her mission was first and foremost to Frodo and the destruction of the Ring. Celede had already decided to give up her chance at love to ensure Arwen and Aragorn continued their love, and it wasn't fair for her to lead Legolas on or take away any of his focus from Frodo to her.

Celede glanced down at the hand that still held her elbow. His fingers were so gentle and refined, and she could see the strength and skill in them as well…but she couldn't think like that.

"Thank you," she muttered with a curt nod. Legolas hesitated as if he were about to say something, but she pulled away and walked forward determinedly. She clutched her hood to her face so she couldn't see him and he couldn't see the sadness in her.

Celede was up ahead with Mithrandir and Gimli one day when she heard Aragorn call out Frodo's name. They had reached one of the smaller summits and were walking along a snowy plateau. The sun was warm on their faces, and for once Celede was enjoying the walk. Upon hearing Aragorn, she turned around to see that poor Frodo had fallen on the snow and rolled down to where Aragorn had been bringing up the rear. Aragorn gently helped Frodo as the hobbit scrambled to his feet. Frodo's hands searched his neckline, looking for the Ring, but Celede realized with a jolt that he had lost it in his fall. She cast her eyes along the snow, looking for it in sudden panic, but Boromir found it first. He leaned down and picked up the necklace holding the Ring. Boromir stared at the Ring as it dangled on the chain, seemingly entranced by the object. Celede felt a sense of unease.

"Mithrandir," she called warningly. Gandalf turned slowly to see what had transpired.

"Boromir," Aragorn said quietly, but Boromir ignored him, talking to himself.

"It is a strange thing," Boromir said, "that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing…Such a little thing."

As Boromir reached out to touch the Ring with his finger, Aragorn said his name, louder this time.

"Boromir!"

Celede saw Boromir visibly jolt out of his trance, looking shocked at what had happened. Celede felt a strange sort of pity for Boromir. She had felt the same way when Frodo had first shown the Ring to her.

"Give the Ring to Frodo," Aragorn commanded quietly. Still dazed, Boromir slowly walked towards Frodo, extending the Ring towards the hobbit.

"As you wish," he said. Frodo snatched the Ring back, and Celede took a deep breath of relief, realizing she had been holding it in. Boromir seemed to have completely recovered, and he tried to make light of what had happened.

"I care not," he said cheerfully. The he tousled Frodo's hair with a laugh and turned around to continue climbing, oblivious to the silent bystanders in front of him. Celede watched Aragorn's grip on his sword relax, as did Legolas's grip on his bow. Without realizing it, Celede noticed that she too had been holding her throwing knife in its sheath, but for what, she did not know. Could she have killed Boromir if he hadn't snapped out of his trance? She had killed orcs before, but never a person. Boromir was more than a person, too; he was a companion as well. Could Boromir be trusted?

Celede pondered these questions as they continued to climb, higher and higher into the mountain. Although they had been walking in a brief lull, the wind began to whip her hair away from her face once more, and snow began to fall from the clouds in the sky. The Fellowship wound their way around a steep cliff and finally reached a path that snaked along the edge of the mountainside. Above the path loomed rocks covered with mountains of snow, and below the path lay a dark chasm that would mean certain death to any who fell.

"This is crazy- we can't travel here!" Celede called up to Mithrandir.

"We have no choice, my dear," Mithrandir responded. Celede didn't believe this though. Like Gimli said, they could go through the mines of Moria.

She looked at the group, and her heart ached to see them suffering. All of them were waist-deep in snow, trudging steadily along. As Elves, she and Legolas were the only two who could tread lightly on top of the snow, though that meant they were also more likely to fall off of the mountain

"How are you walking like that?" Pippin demanded, covered in snow. His nose was bright red, and snow clung to his hair, his clothes, and even his face. His eyes squinted blearily at Celede against the storm.

"I don't know," Celede admitted, "This is just how I walk."

She supposed if she really thought about it, she could walk with heavier steps and begin to sink into the snow like the others were, but that type of walking was unnatural to her. She and Legolas brought up the rear as Gandalf began to lead them up the path. Although acutely aware of his presence, she determinedly refused to look at him.

"Come here, Merry, Pippin," Boromir said, and he lifted them up into his arms in preparation for the path ahead. Aragorn did the same with Sam and Frodo, sheltering them from the cold as best he could. Frodo had one hand clutching the hood of his cloak over his face in a futile attempt at warmth.

Legolas made a sudden move forward, and Celede grabbed his hand to keep him from falling. He turned to look at her.

"I'm going to scout ahead with Mithrandir."

"Be careful," Celede said instinctively and with more fear in her voice than she intended. Legolas smiled and Celede hastily pulled away from him. What had she done?

"I promise I will be."

Celede watched as Legolas nimbly walked past the group to join Mithrandir at the head. He was walking along the edge of the abyss, and despite herself, Celede didn't start breathing again until he had fallen into line with Mithrandir. Suddenly, he stepped forward, his head tilted as if listening to something. Celede frowned and listened too. She heard the faintest whisperings of a deep voice chanting. Although the voice was vaguely familiar to her, she couldn't make out what was being said.

"There is a fell voice on the air," she heard Legolas say. Gandalf turned, listening.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf cried out. At his words, Celede looked up to hear a loud cracking sound, and her heart leaped to her throat as rocks fell loose of the mountain and came crashing down towards them.

"Get towards the edge!" she cried out, and the Fellowship leaned as far away from the mountains as possible. The rocks hit the edge of the path, and the sudden impact caused Celede to fall to her knees, suddenly wishing she was as buried in snow as the others were. She slowly rose to her feet after the impact and saw Legolas watching her. His brow had been furrowed, but relaxed with relief when he saw she was standing once more.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn cried, "Gandalf, we must turn back!"

Celede agreed wholeheartedly with Aragorn's pronouncement, but Gandalf was not ready to give up.

"No," Gandalf said vehemently as he used his staff to pull himself out of the snow. Then he began to speak to the mountain, and Celede could feel the power behind his words.

"Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho I 'ruith!"Celede understood his words: _Sleep, Caradhras, be still, lie still, hold your wrath!_

The dark voice of Saruman continued, and a bolt of lightning struck the tip of the mountain above them, causing a cascade of snow to come flying down towards them. This time, Celede saw, the snow was heading straight for them. She heard Sam gasp as he looked up, but all she could do was throw herself against the side of the mountain as the snow hit them.

The weight of the snow knocked the wind out of her, and she collapsed under it helplessly. Her head pounded with the force of the impact, and she couldn't draw air into her lungs to soothe it. She couldn't open her eyes against the snow and felt the silent, deadly cold creeping into her system. In desperation she kicked her legs and flailed her arms, pushing herself in the direction she thought was up.

She broke the surface of the snow suddenly, gasping in the frigid air that burned her lungs but relieved her need for oxygen. She looked over to see that Legolas had already clambered out of the snow and was making his way back to her, helping pull the others out of the snow. After she was sure Frodo and everyone else had safely survived the avalanche, she shakily accepted Legolas's proffered hand. He pulled her easily out of the snow, and she leaned against the mountain behind her, breathing deeply.

"It's alright. Everyone's alright," Legolas told her soothingly.

"That was too close," she muttered, her voice hoarse from the cold. Legolas looked as if he wanted to pull her close to warm her, but Boromir began to speak and the moment was lost.

"We must get off the mountain! Make for the gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!"

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard," Aragorn argued.

"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria," Gimli said firmly.

Celede watched Gandalf, hoping that he had finally accepted that they couldn't travel on the mountain. She was surprised to see that in addition to doubt, there was fear in Gandalf's eyes as he considered the mines. She glanced at Legolas, but he was watching Gandalf intently. _What is in Moria that is worse than this mountain?_

Finally, Gandalf spoke.

"Let the Ringbearer decide."

Frodo looked taken aback by suddenly being given the responsibility of choosing the path.

"We cannot stay here! This will be the death of the hobbits!" Boromir cried.

Merry and Pippin were watching Frodo. Both were pale and nearly blue from the cold, and they looked at Frodo with anxious expressions. Celede knew then that Frodo would choose the mines. She knew he could not let his friends suffer so when there was even the slightest chance of an alternative. Gandalf, however, seemed to hope Frodo would choose to continue their current path.

"Frodo?" he asked again.

"We will go through the mines," Frodo said firmly, and Gandalf's face turned somber.

"So be it."

Celede, however, closed her eyes in relief as the Fellowship turned and began traveling back down the mountain.

The trip down was easier than the trip up, but everyone was exhausted and cold when they finally reached the base. Pippin was too tired to keep up his usual chatter, and they walked in silence. Although Celede was also tired, she tried not to show it in front of everyone else. Frodo walked ahead of her, and Celede noticed he was walking tensely, as though stressed about something.

"Frodo," she called quietly, and he paused long enough for her to catch up to him.

"I think you made a wise choice, up there on the mountain," she said.

"I hope I do not come to regret it," Frodo replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"You made the best choice you could, given your options," Celede said, "Even if our journey through Moria ends badly, I want to make sure you do not blame yourself."

"It's not that easy, though, is it," Frodo said, "To tell yourself not to regret a thing doesn't mean you will be able to cast aside your feelings of regret so easily if all goes wrong."

"Frodo, come and help an old man," Gandalf interrupted from ahead. Frodo gave Celede an apologetic glance before he strode up ahead to help Gandalf. Celede felt strangely rebuked by the hobbit's words. Was regret what she had been struggling with these past few weeks? She was trying so hard to be the selfless martyr, but she couldn't seem to stop thinking about Legolas. With a slight shake of her head, Celede looked around at their surroundings.

The ruins of a huge aqueduct loomed far above them on the path. Celede stared at the stone structure in awe and fascination. Although the Elves in Rivendell had the most intricate statues and carvings, they did not build such grand, towering structures, preferring instead to build light and delicate artifacts.

"We will probably have to go around it to find the Dwarf doors," Legolas said, coming up behind her.

"I have never seen such a stone structure before," Celede said wonderingly, "It's magnificent."

Gimli, who was walking behind her, seemed pleased by her comment.

"And that's only a passage for water in and out of the city. The real wonders lie within," Gimli said smugly.

Legolas raised a slender eyebrow, not as impressed as Celede was by the aqueduct.

"Do you have such stone carvings in Mirkwood?" Celede asked him.

"We do not live underground, if that is what you are asking. My father does have a stone fortress, however, so I have seen Elvish craftsmanship in rock before."

"What is your father like?" Celede asked, surprised at her sudden boldness, "I have only met him once, and I fear I acted foolishly and naively then."

Legolas waved off her comment about her manners in the past, but took a moment to think before replying.

"He is a wise king," Legolas said at last, "But years of battle have left him weary and worn. In trying to rule the kingdom of Mirkwood and keep its residents safe, he cares first and foremost about anything within the borders. Sometimes he does not think of the consequences that changes in the outside world could have on his land."

"But he is wise enough to let you leave and travel where you wish," Celede said, trying to keep the sudden bitterness out of her voice, then guilt at thinking badly of her father. Legolas didn't seem to notice.

"He knows I am capable of defending myself," Legolas said. Celede's face fell, wishing her father trusted her so. Legolas looked at her downcast expression, startled.

"Oh, no, Celede, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything like that-"

"It's alright, Legolas."

"Princeling has lived longer than you, dearie," Gimli interjected, "He's faced greater foes and proven himself. You are still relatively untested. That's nothing against you, though. I'd wager you will face your share of battle before this journey is over."

The trio lapsed into silence. Then Gimli looked up and gasped in delight.

"The walls of Moria," he proclaimed.

By nightfall, they had crossed the rocky plains and reached the walls. The plan was to rest once they entered the mines, so the Fellowship wearily pushed on, looking for the door hidden in the rock.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed," Gimli said proudly. He then proceeded to tap on the rock with his axe as he wlked, as if he could find the door that way. Celede quickly turned away to hide her smile at the futility of his action. In doing so, she noticed they were traveling alongside a murky pool beside the wall. Although the surface was calm, Celede sensed something lurking beneath the water. She caught Aragorn's eye and motioned to the pool, silently cautioning him about the water.

"Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten," Gandalf replied from up ahead. Next to her, Legolas smirked.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Celede whacked him with her arm, and his smile widened. Gimli harrumphed at Legolas's words but did not notice the exchange between the two. Celede sighed; she fell into her old ways far too easily.

Gandalf finally stopped, leaning over to examine the rock in front of him more closely. After muttering to himself for a moment, he turned and looked up to the moon just as some wisps of cloud bathed the Fellowship in moonlight. Lines in the rock in front of Gandalf lit up to reveal the pattern of an elaborate door.

Celede was surprised to see that the message of the door was written in Elvish as Gandalf translated for the rest of the group.

"It reads 'The Doors of Durin-Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.'"

"Why is the message written in Elvish if it is a Dwarvish mine?" Celede asked Legolas quietly.

"Because long ago, the Dwarves and Elves had alliances with each other, just as Elves and Men once fought together," Legolas replied.

"How times have changed," Celede muttered under her breath, but Legolas still heard her and frowned.

"Why can't you get along with Gimli?" Celede finally asked him, "He seems like a decent Dwarf, and you shouldn't carry such prejudice against an entire race like that."

Legolas was silent for a moment.

"I used to think of Dwarves as inferior," he finally said, "But they proved me wrong and not for good reason. Let me treat Gimli as I will, Celede, and do not interfere."

Celede was curious to know what the Dwarves may have done to Legolas, but Legolas had shut her out and she didn't press the matter. She realized that she had been assuming up until that point that Legolas was trying to renew their relationship and she was the one solely preventing anything between them. Legolas's cryptic words showed her that perhaps he did not view her as closely as she had imagined. With a sinking heart, Celede wondered if her potential for a relationship with Legolas was purely her imagination. Although she knew that would be the best scenario, she couldn't help but feel upset about it. Gandalf jolted her out of her thoughts.

"Fennas Nogothrim, lasto beth lammen," she heard Mithrandir speak to the door. _Doorway of the Dwarf-folk, listen to the word of my tongue._

Nothing happened, and Gandalf, frustrated, began to push against the stone.

"I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves, Men, and orcs," he muttered to himself.

"What are you going to do, then?" Pippin inquired. Gandalf grunted in annoyance.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words."

Celede's eyes widened with surprise. Mithrandir must have been very stressed, since he did not usually lose his temper like that, especially to inquiring minds. As a girl, Celede would constantly ask him questions during his visits. Although her father berated her, Mithrandir would only chuckle and patiently answer everything. Her mood further dampened by the memory of her father, Celede pushed past Legolas, shook Pippin's shoulder encouragingly, and went to stand by Gandalf. Frodo perched on a rock on Gandalf's other side. Gandalf looked up at her wearily as she approached.

"I am not as wise as you, but I can try to help you open the doors," Celede said meekly. She needed to occupy her tumultuous mind with something else. Gandalf's frown relaxed.

"Of course, my dear," he said, "Another mind against this problem is always welcome."

As Celede began trying to remember old Elvish unlocking spells, Legolas kept his distance. No matter how hard he tried, he found himself making mistakes in her presence. He had almost told her about an Elf he had admired long ago, whom he had followed against his father's will to fight a party of orcs and save a Dwarf. Blinded by his affection for her, he hadn't realized that she had begun to fall in love with the Dwarf. When presented with a similar choice, she had chosen to stay with the Dwarf instead of accompany him to fight. Legolas did not think Celede would appreciate hearing about Tauriel, however, even if Tauriel was long gone from his life now.

Without realizing it, he found himself looking at Celede as she stood in front of the doors, arms crossed in front of her, lost in conversation with Mithrandir. Her long silver-blonde hair fell in waves down her back, and weeks of traveling had not made her any less beautiful. All Elves were attractive, Legolas thought, but Celede had a fire in her that tugged at his heart. Her eyebrows were furrowed in determination above eyes that gleamed with life and energy, and her stance, with one leg propped up on a rock, revealed the power and skill within her that he knew could be unleashed at the slightest danger.

"I stand by what I said before," Gimli said from Legolas's elbow. Legolas looked down in irritation.

"And what is that, Dwarf?"

"She loves you, Princeling," Gimli said, knowing he was pushing Legolas's limits. But after the Elf's insult against his people, Gimli no longer felt any need to speak properly to the Elf. "And I would have to be blind to miss the looks you give her when you think no one is looking," Gimli continued.  
>Legolas scoffed.<p>

"Have you forgotten our previous conversation?" Legolas asked, "The one where I told you she made her feelings for me, or rather lack thereof, very clear."

Gimli frowned. He did remember, and throughout the journey, he had thought about it as he came to understand more about Celede. He could come to only one explanation for her words to Legolas.

"I think that whatever she said, she said to protect you. Not because she meant it," Gimli confided. If only his father could see him now, giving advice on love to an Elf.

He continued, "I've noticed that lass is extremely devoted to those she cares about. She wouldn't turn you away, Princeling, unless she feared you would be hurt otherwise."

Gimli clutched his axe tightly, prepared for a round of insults from Legolas. Instead, Legolas was strangely silent, lost in thought. Gimli relaxed. Perhaps Legolas would take his words to heart. Although he didn't care much for the uptight Elvish Prince, he had come to care for Celede. She was always kind and generous to him, though he could see her pain at being away from home. Gimli wanted nothing more than to help her be happy again. The merry atmosphere of a feast with the Dwarves would help that, he thought with excitement.

Celede heard a splash and turned from the door to see Aragorn quickly stepping forward to stop Merry and Pippin from throwing rocks in the water, which had been the cause of the splash. She turned back to see Gandalf throw down his staff in defeat. Just as the wizard took off his hat in disappointment, a gleam came into Frodo's eye and he stood in front of the door.

"It's a riddle," he said, "Speak 'friend' and enter. What's the Elvish word for friend?"

"Mellon," Celede answered. With a crack and answering rumble, the stone doors swung open to reveal darkness and a musty odor from within. Celede tensed. Something was not right inside. Legolas came up next to her with an encouraging smile though, the tension gone from before. Celede smiled weakly back and followed Legolas into the mine.

Gimli seemed to be the most excited of them all.

"Soon, Lady Elf," he said to her, "you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves! Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone. This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin."

Celede refrained from telling him Elves did not eat meat unless absolutely necessary. Gandalf produced light with a crystal in his staff, and Celede gasped at the sight before her.

"And they call it a mine. A mine!" Gimil continued with oblivious mirth.

In front of them lay corpse upon corpse of rotting and decaying bodies of Dwarves, many pierced with arrows and all covered in cobwebs that suggested no Dwarf had been there for quite some time.

"This is no mine," Boromir said in shock, "It's a tomb."

Gimli began to wail with grief, but Legolas silently moved away from Celede to pull out and examine an arrow from a fallen Dwarf. Celede resisted the sudden urge to call him back to her, wanting his comforting presence beside her if there was danger.

"Goblins!" Legolas said in disgust, throwing the arrow aside. As he nocked an arrow into his bow, he moved back towards Celede. With hidden relief, she nocked her own bow.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here," Boromir stated. He and Aragorn had drawn their swords.

"Now get out of here, get out!" Boromir cried.

As they backed away, Celede heard the hobbits scream, "Frodo!" and spun around as Sam cried, "Strider!"

She cursed in Elvish. They had been so cautious of what was in the tunnels that no one had paid attention to what lay in the water behind them. Merry and Pippin had disturbed the water, after all. Being the first to enter, she and Legolas were last to get outside. Frodo had been picked up by the ankle by the tentacle of some sea monster and was dangling in the air helplessly. Aragorn and Boromir charged into the water and began hacking at tentacles, trying to get to the one that was holding Frodo. Another tentacle began to wrap itself around Frodo's mouth, but Legolas took aim and released his arrow, which flew right to its target. The tentacle jerked away from Frodo.

Celede aimed and released her own arrow. It hit the tentacle at the point where it had latched around Frodo's ankle, but instead of letting go, the tentacle writhed in response and Frodo screamed. Another tentacle latched on to Frodo's wrist, threatening to pull him apart. Celede's hand went back to grasp her long dagger, preparing to plunge into the water, but Legolas put a hand on her forearm to stop her.

"We can be more effective here," he said quietly.

The face of the creature, ringed by more tentacles, suddenly emerged from beneath the water. It opened its mouth wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth, in preparation for Frodo, which it dangled closer and closer to its maw. Celede shot an arrow at its mouth, but a tentacle intercepted it. With a cry, Aragorn finally reached the tentacle holding Frodo and sliced into it. Frodo was released and fell plummeting down towards the water with a cry. Boromir ran to stand beneath him and caught him easily. Without hesitation, he charged for the open door of Moria, still holding Frodo.

"Legolas!" he screamed. Legolas took aim as the others ran back into the mines. Celede stood with him as he fired an arrow into the creature's eye, causing it to bellow and fall back for a moment.

"Run!" Aragorn cried. Legolas grabbed Celede's hand and they ran into the darkness of the mine together as the sea monster pulled itself out of the water and tried to follow, tearing into the doors. Rocks fell from the roof as the Fellowship looked back at the final rays of moonlight swiftly disappearing behind falling stone.

Celede could see nothing in the blackness. She heard the gasps and heavy breathing of the group around her. Legolas remained silent by her side, but she could feel his fast pulse beneath her fingertips. Suddenly, light emanated from Gandalf's staff, and Celede hastily pulled her hand out of Legolas's. Why couldn't she just stay away from him? Conversely, her heart leaped as she realized Legolas had grabbed her hand. It wasn't completely her imagination.

"We now have but one choice," Gandalf said grimly, "We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world."

Celede did not like the sound of that.

"Quietly now," Gandalf continued, "It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed."

Afraid to talk, Celede simply stepped into line beside Legolas. She would go crazy if she kept fighting her urge to be with him, and so she made a sudden decision that in times of danger, she would be a little more relaxed towards him. It seemed natural to walk with him, even though they had not established what they meant to each other. She felt safer with Legolas, and that meant she was less afraid. Thinking that perhaps he had been the reason her fear had not yet triggered any spasms, Celede felt she needed his extra reassurance even more. She would be no help to Frodo if she was incapacitated. It was a legitimate excuse at the very least.

The path they traveled was often narrow, snaking along the side of the cliff. Ladders and buckets and pulleys littered the side of the abyss, providing evidence of the Dwarves' extraordinary mining abilities.

Gandalf became lost at one point, so the Fellowship stopped to rest. Celede and Legolas went to sit by Aragorn and Boromir. Aragorn sat with his sword propped in front of him, eating an apple. Boromir lay with his eyes closed as if asleep; his back was against the rock and his shield lay on top of him.

"How are you doing, Estel?" Celede asked Aragorn quietly in Elvish. He took a moment to chew and swallow.

"I am doing well enough."

"Do you miss her?"

Aragorn did not need to ask who Celede was referring to.

"There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of her," he replied longingly. Celede's heart was gladdened by this. Her mission still had purpose. Legolas watched her expression curiously.

"Why does it gladden you, Celede, that Aragorn is torn from the one he loves?"

"I am glad that he is still in love with my sister," Celede replied smoothly, "Their love has been able to withstand such separation, so their reunion will be even more meaningful."

Legolas looked at her with surprise.

"Lady Arwen is not traveling to the ships at the Grey Havens?" he asked uncertainly.

"She is," Aragorn affirmed, "I made sure of it. The Elves are leaving this land, and I would not be the one to stand in her way."

"It is her choice to leave or stay," Celede said calmly. She had faith in her sister to remain. "And not all of the Elves are leaving. At least not yet. Legolas and I are still here. My father and brothers are here as well."

"Many of the Elves of Mirkwood have not left as well," Legolas replied, "But I do not know why they would not, as Valinor is a land far more peaceful and plentiful than Middle Earth."

"They stay because Middle Earth is their home," Celede replied, "They stay because they have hope that we can rid this land of evil. Is that not why we are here, fighting for peace on this quest?"

Legolas paused, unable to come up with an answer, when Gandalf interrupted their conversation.

"Oh! It's that way," he exclaimed, gesturing with his head towards the opening of one stone corridor. The Fellowship slowly rose to their feet, trusting the wizard completely, and continued further into the mines.

_**There's quite a bit of direct movie quotes in this chapter. I don't own any of it whatsoever.  
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	15. Love and Loss

_**A/N: Trying to update more often...I really am. I like how this chapter came out. :-)**_

Gandalf soon revealed that he had not actually remembered the path, but the air just smelled better down one particular staircase. When they emerged from the tunnel, Gandalf's staff shone brighter, illuminating their surroundings. Celede's eyes widened as she stared in awe at the sight before her. The ground had been carved into a huge cavern held up by stone pillar after stone pillar, each wider than the largest trees in Rivendell. She could not see any end to the cavern, and everyone else, even Legolas, seemed shocked by the wonder of the Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf. Celede felt like a tiny ant beneath the arched ceiling. The Fellowship continued to walk, occasionally turning in place to stare up at the magnificent architecture of the Dwarves.

Gimli gasped suddenly, and Celede pulled her eyes away from the ceiling only to narrowly avoid stepping on the corpse of a Dwarf. She scanned the ground, seeing more and more bodies leading into a chamber that Gimli ran towards, ignoring Gandalf's warning. Celede quickly followed with the rest of the Fellowship and stepped through the door to see a single shaft of brilliant light shining down on a marble tomb in the center of the room.

Gimli slowed down in front of the tomb and kneeled. He began to moan, muttering "No" over and over again as he started to cry. Celede exchanged worried looks with Legolas. They reached the tomb and Celede read the Dwarvish as Gandalf translated:

"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria."

Celede's heart sank. She remembered Balin from Thorin Oakenshield's company of Dwarves that had come to Rivendell so long ago seeking her father's help to reach the Lonely Mountain. He had been one of the only Dwarves in the company with manners, and Celede had had nothing but respect for him. Now he was dead, Celede thought miserably, bowing her head. Legolas put a comforting arm around her shoulders, and Celede didn't have the resolve to shrug him off.

"Hiro hyn hidh ab wanath," she said quietly over the tomb. _May he find peace in death. _

As Gimli grieved, Celede leaned into Legolas. She told herself that death could be imminent, and she could allow herself just a few moments beside Legolas. If they lived, she could simply pass off her actions as grief. Gandalf stepped further into the room and picked up a book held by a Dwarf corpse. He began to read aloud the sorrowful journal of the trapped Dwarves against an evil outside the doors that they had no chance of defeating. When he had finished, he turned to the inside of the front cover of the book and read the name of the author, who must have been the corpse that had been holding the book. Gandalf's shoulders sank sadly.

"Did you know him?" Celede asked quietly.

"Yes, I did for a brief time," Gandalf said, "But longer than, I think, you knew him."

"I knew him?" Celede asked in surprise and sudden dread.

"He was Ori, younger brother of Nori and Dori, and a member of Thorin's Company."

Celede flinched as she was suddenly struck again with sadness and distress that Ori had died in such pain and horror. Legolas squeezed her shoulders comfortingly. She remembered Ori as a quiet Dwarf who was one of the only Dwarves to be polite to the Elves, but only when he was by himself. When he was with the Company, his brother Dori was constantly bossing him around. More than that though, Celede remembered Ori as a talented artist. She had found him in the courtyard once, sketching the statue of her mother into his journal. The drawing was better than she had expected it to be, coming from a Dwarf, for Ori had captured her mother's expression perfectly. Ori had taught her to not be so judgmental of the Dwarves, and perhaps other races in Middle Earth, for there were exceptions to every stereotype.

Legolas turned to Aragorn then, his voice tense.

"We must keep moving. We cannot linger."

A sudden crash surprised them all. Pippin looked at them in fear next to a well upon which sat the body of a headless Dwarf. Then the body fell into the well, following what must have been the head. The resounding clangs echoed in the deep, and Celede saw Pippin flinch with every noise. As one, the Fellowship remained silent. Celede didn't dare to breathe as she listened to hear if they'd been heard. When nothing happened, Boromir sighed in relief and Gandalf angrily chastised Pippin. Celede remained tense beside Legolas though, who also continued to listen.

The sound of a drum confirmed Celede's fears. The others had relaxed too soon. The Fellowship had been discovered. The drum sounded again and again, picking up speed to the rhythm of Celede's own heart. She turned to the door to see a sudden orange light emanating from one of the tunnels, accompanied by sinister screeches and cackles. Legolas recognized the evil just as the hobbits saw Frodo's blade glowing blue.

"Orcs," he said. He spoke with tension but not fear in his voice. Celede took one more moment to stand beside him and brace herself against her inner fear. She could fight and defeat these orcs, but not if she was attacked from within herself as well. After carefully building a mental wall to contain her fear inside her head, Celede leaped into action with the rest of the Fellowship. As Elrohir and Elladan had taught her, she quickly observed her battlefield, noting every pillar, corner, and stepping stone she could use to hide or launch an offense.

Boromir had run to the door, only to jerk his head back and narrowly avoid arrows that embedded themselves in the door. The orcs were already within firing distance. As Boromir closed the wooden doors, Gandalf herded the hobbits into the back corner to give them final instruction.

"They have a cave-troll," Boromir said casually as Legolas threw him an axe to help seal the door. Celede and Aragorn helped to seal the door as best they could until Celede could hear the orcs right outside.

Silently, she backed away and nocked an arrow in her bow, prepared to fire at the slightest hole in the door. As the doors began to shake from the force being applied outside, Gimli leaped on top of Balin's coffin.

"Let them come!" he growled, "There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath."

Celede glanced at Legolas and saw him roll his eyes. She let herself smile slightly before focusing again on the door.

An axe cracked a hole in the door, followed by a spear. Legolas fired first, and they all heard the scream that told them he'd hit his mark. Celede waited a moment to make sure that orc had fallen before firing her own and hearing another shriek, to her satisfaction. Aragorn just managed to fire an arrow after her when the doors came down. Celede shot one last arrow at the incoming wave of orcs, hitting one in the eye, before the evil was upon them and chaos descended.

She drew her dagger and parried an incoming orc with a snarl, then whacked it over the head with her bow. She threw her bow back over her shoulder, knocking out another orc, and pulled out her throwing dagger from its sheath. An orc came at her with a spear and she easily sidestepped it, plunging her dagger into its chest. The orc screamed and black blood gushed from the wound as Celede pulled the dagger out. Another orc came at her, stepping over the previous one without care. Celede raised her dagger to cut this orc down when she heard a screech from behind her and changed tactics. At the last moment, she dove to the ground, heard the orcs' weapons hit each other above her head, and promptly stabbed with each knife upwards and outwards, killing them both. In the brief reprieve, Celede leaped straight up onto a ledge she had noticed earlier.

A roar emanated from the entrance, and Celede turned to see an orc enter pulling on a chain. Suddenly, the cave troll on the chain came into view. It smashed down rocks as it fit through the door and roared in defiance. Legolas shot an arrow at its chest, but the troll only bellowed and plunged forward, its club raised. The troll targeted Sam, who tried to dive out of the way, but he couldn't get up from his lunge fast enough to dodge a second attack. Just as the troll was about to step on him, the creature was pulled from behind by the chain. Celede saw Aragorn and Boromir straining against the chain, stopping the troll from hurting Sam. The troll turned around and smacked Boromir with its club, sending him flying. Celede winced. Unable to see her companions being hurt so easily, Celede drew her bow and shot an arrow through the troll's ear to get its attention.

The troll turned to her with a growl, and she made sure the monster saw her first, waiting as it lumbered over to her. As it swung its club, Celede dived behind a pillar, and the club collided with the stone just inches from her head. Without hesitating, Celede leaped onto the club and nocked another arrow. While the troll struggled to free the club from the stone, Celede ran up its arm, feeling the tough hide beneath her boots. She reached its shoulder, aimed at the side of its head, and fired. The arrow duck deep into its skull, but the troll only roared in anger. Its free hand came up to pry her off its shoulder, but she ran across its back onto the other shoulder. As she did so, the club finally came free, and the troll immediately swung it at her. Celede lost her balance and leaped for the troll's elbow, catching it with one hand and quickly grabbing on with her other hand as well. As she hung from the troll's arm, she watched as the momentum of the club overpowered the troll and slammed into the troll's shoulder, where Celede had been a moment ago. Afraid the troll would topple over, Celede swung herself away from its body and let go, flying off of the troll's arm to collide with two orcs who had been attacking Merry and Pippin. She winced as her elbow hit the hard floor as she rolled off the orcs. Using her momentum, she brought herself to a crouching position and looked up. Merry and Pippin were watching her with wide eyes.

"Do they teach that in Rivendell?" Merry asked her in awe. Celede grinned.

"Everything but the landing," she replied, rubbing her sore elbow. She turned around to see with disappointment that the troll was still alive and doing well after its encounter with Celede. It swung its club downwards at Gimli, who jumped out of the way as Balin's tomb was promptly destroyed. Celede winced and looked up to see Legolas on the same ledge she had used on the other side of the room.

"Behind you!" he cried, and Celede turned slightly, seeing an orc swinging its sword at her. She threw her head backwards as the sword sliced the air just above her face. Pulling herself upright, Celede stabbed the orc and kicked him away. Frodo called for help from the landing above them.

"Go to Frodo," she told Merry and Pippin, "I will cover for you."

She began slashing at orcs once more, preventing any of them from following the hobbits up the pile of rocks to the ledge above. When one of the orcs aimed an arrow at them, Celede promptly threw her knife into its chest. She made a note to retrieve the weapon when she had the chance as she parried another orc's sword and cut off its head.

Then Celede heard the sound of a whip above her and looked up to see that the troll had lost its club and was using its chain to attack Legolas on his landing. Celede's heart jumped to her throat as she watched Legolas duck to avoid the lethal strip of metal over and over. Celede had simply needed to avoid a bulky club, not a flying piece of chain. If Legolas was a moment too slow, he'd be cut open, she though in fear.

Legolas was quick though, and he gradually drew the troll's attacks towards the same pillar Celede had used. The troll swung its chain once more, but this time the chain coiled around the stone, and Legolas quickly put his foot on the chain, keeping it in place. Then he ran up the metal before the troll could free itself. Celede's attention was drawn away from Legolas by more orcs in her vicinity, but she heard the troll's wail of pain and was able to look up in time to see Legolas jumping nimbly off the troll, landing on his feet in the center of the room. He looked over at her and she shook her head, pretending to be unimpressed. Legolas grinned at that before he was forced to continue fighting. Celede turned back to her own fight and noticed an orc aiming an arrow at her. Celede jerked to the side, and felt the arrow graze her hair as it flew by.

Unfortunately, she had leaped right into another orc and it snarled as it slashed its sword at her. She tried to dodge, but she wasn't fast enough and the sword grazed her chest just below her collarbone. It hooked on something and Celede felt her Evenstar being pulled out from its place between her breasts. The necklace chain broke and her betrothal jewel went flying away from her. In horror, the world around Celede seemed to slow down. She reached a hand towards the jewel, but she couldn't move fast enough as the Evenstar flew through the air. Celede watched as it plunged to the ground, finally smashing into millions of tiny shards on the hard stone of the room. A flash of brilliant bright white light emanated from the center, and the orc beside her wailed as it was blinded. Celede cut its head off numbly and stared at the remains of her precious jewel, sparkling in so many tiny pieces on the ground. She felt sick with loss and despair, remembering the moment she had been given the jewel hundreds of years ago.

"_Your mother wanted you to have it when you came of age" Lord Elrond said. Celede looked up at him with wide eyes as he carefully placed it around her neck. She held it in the palm of her hand and admired the Evenstar._

"_It's so beautiful, Father."_

"_It's an important part of you. When you meet some noble, handsome Elf and fall in love with him enough to wish to pledge yourself to him forever, offer him this jewel. If he accepts it, it means he has pledged himself to you and you shall become mates for life."_

_Celede grinned at her father._

"_Does he have to be noble and handsome?"_

"_Of course," Elrond said mock-sternly, "I would not let my daughter marry anyone less."_

Celede put her hand to her neck, instinctively searching for and not feeling the familiar weight of the jewel. Her fingers came away slick with blood from where the orc's sword had grazed her, but she didn't feel any pain. The Evenstar was one of the only things she had from her mother, and furthermore, it was a symbol of her future. If it had been destroyed, did that symbolize her loveless future? It was yet another sign that Celede was going to die alone and without ever falling in love. She wasn't going to live long enough to pledge herself to a mate. She looked over to see Legolas striking down orc after orc with an easy grace that brought tears to Celede's eyes. In that moment, she knew for certain that she wanted to fight next to him and be with him forever. But now, she had been shown yet again that she couldn't ask him to pledge his love to her. The loss of the Evenstar meant her fate was set and love was not meant to be. Numb with hopelessness, Celede made no move to defend against the orcs that were moving in towards her, sensing weakness. Suddenly, her hand twitched at her side, and cold fear flew through her. Celede knew what involuntary twitching signaled. She had to control this sudden fright. In desperation, she tried to bring back the walls in her mind that controlled her fear, but they had been broken down by her distressed thoughts and the sudden loss of her Evenstar. She felt her jaw lock as the familiar spasms began to take root in her back, her legs, and her arms.

At that moment, she heard Aragorn shout "Frodo!"

The cae troll was still alive, and Frodo was its next target. Frodo was desperately trying to maneuver around a column, keeping it between himself and the troll. Celede spied Legolas fighting off orcs next to Gimli. He too had looked up at Aragorn's cry and now began to move towards Frodo.

An orc entered her field of vision and Celede pushed herself as far back against the stone wall as she could. Her body was not her own anymore though, and she couldn't even raise her dagger to defend herself. She needed help, but so did Frodo, and Frodo came first. He was the Ringbearer, and the Fellowship could live without her. She tried not to succumb further into the spasms by thinking about death, but with an orc snarling at her face, she couldn't help it. Her hand jerked and the dagger went clattering out of her hand onto the stone. Legolas turned at the sound, and his eyes widened in shock and sudden worry as he saw Celede, huddled against a wall and defenseless against an imminent blow from an orc.

The last thing Celede wanted was for Legolas to see her like this, especially with Frodo in danger. Legolas immediately drew an arrow and fired it at the orc. Celede gasped in relief, which was all she could do in her current state as the orc fell dead at her feet. Legolas began to run towards her, which upset Celede even more. He couldn't take time protecting her, Celede thought desperately, when Frodo was also in danger.

_Legolas, help Frodo, _she pleaded to him through her mind. He only ran faster towards her, and Celede couldn't even shake her head at him. There were no orcs near her at the moment; she would be fine. She didn't have time to explain her affliction to him, not while Frodo was dancing around a pillar to avoid the cave troll.

But Legolas did not hesitate. He reached her and gently pulled her away from the wall, as if he knew exactly what was going on. Celede watched him in surprise and fear, trying to push him away. He couldn't see her like this; he'd surely be repulsed by her weakness. Legolas did not seem surprised or disgusted, however, just strangely nervous as he gently pushed her hair away from her face. Then in one swift, determined movement, he cupped one hand around her face, leaned forward, and kissed her.

Celede's eyes widened in shock and then fluttered closed. His lips were soft and firm as he pressed them against hers, sending waves of energy and delight coursing through her system. The mines disappeared and all Celede became aware of was Legolas and his hand in her hair and his body against hers and his lips touching hers. She felt her body relax and become her own again, allowing her to lean forward, deepening the kiss. Her hands slid up his chest, planning to wrap around his neck and bring him closer-

"Princeling! It can wait!" Gimli cried from across the room. Celede jerked away in surprise, but Legolas stood still, his eyes still closed in contentment. When they opened, his brilliant blue eyes met hers and he smiled shyly.

"Better?" he asked innocently. She was about to nod when she heard the troll roar in triumph. She looked in sudden terror at the far corner, where the troll had just stabbed downwards with a pronged spear. Then she heard Frodo's cry of pain and she gasped in horror. _What have I done?_

Legolas looked horrified too. As the rest of the Fellowship attacked the troll with renewed vigor, Legolas snatched up his bow and arrow. With one final glance at Celede, he ran towards the troll. He took careful aim, and his arrow flew into the troll's mouth. The troll froze, then moaned pitifully as it fingered the arrow in its mouth with one hand and fell forward, dead at last. The ease with which Legolas finally killed the creature spiked Celede's rising guilt and panic. She ran towards the corner where Frodo lay. He had fallen forward on top of the spear and wasn't moving.

"Oh, no," Aragorn whispered as the rest of the Fellowship looked on in sorrow. Celede could barely breathe, all thoughts of her moment with Legolas pushed far away from her mind. She could only think of Frodo and how she had failed him, failed her mission, failed her sister and Aragorn. Celede looked away with tears in her eyes, as Aragorn gently flipped Frodo over onto his lap. Frodo started coughing and gasping for breath. Celede's heart leaped in sudden hope, and she turned back around to see Frodo with her own eyes. He couldn't be alive. No one could survive being stabbed by a cave troll…could they?

"I'm all right. I'm not hurt," Frodo confirmed. Celede allowed herself to breathe again in relief and elation. Her mission would still continue. Her mistake with Legolas, for that was what it was, hadn't caused any harm in the end. She silently thanked the Vala and Bilbo Baggins for giving Frodo the shirt of mithril that had saved his life. Legolas came up beside her and put a hand on her back, but she flinched away from him. She couldn't bear his touch after it had almost ended her mission. She noticed his look of confusion and hurt, and in sudden anger she marched away to retrieve her weapons. Didn't Legolas realize that he had almost ruined everything by choosing her over Frodo?

She didn't have time to reflect further on what had transpired, however, as distant shrieks were becoming louder. Everyone in the Fellowship was still alive and they had defeated this wave, but there were more orcs coming after them as well.

"To the bridge of Khazad-Dum," Gandalf commanded, and Celede ran swiftly with the Fellowship, careful to stay on the opposite side of the group as Legolas. They ran back out into the great hall, but its previous grandeur was marred by the appearance of orcs streaming in from the ceiling, side corridors, and even cracks in the ground. Celede nocked an arrow as she ran, aiming wildly, but there were too many targets. One arrow would not have any effect on the swarm surrounding the Fellowship. The arrow by her cheek brought little comfort from the oncoming horde. Gimli cried in defiance next to Mithrandir, who stood next to a certain Elf she couldn't look at again, even at this critical moment. The guilt of almost losing Frodo was overpowering, not to mention the embarrassment of Legolas seeing her in such a compromised state.

Then a rumbling growl emanated from down the corridor, which filled with an ominous orange light that grew brighter, as if something were coming closer. The orcs shrieked and began to retreat, disappearing as quickly as they had appeared. Celede tensed further, even though Gimli cheered in victory. She lowered her arrow, realizing its futility towards whatever was coming.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked Gandalf. Mithrandir looked wearier than Celede had ever seen him, but he closed his eyes and bowed his head in concentration.

"A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world," he finally said. Celede had not heard of such a creature, but she knew the terrible power of ancient demons. She glanced at Legolas without thinking, as had been her habit in weeks past, but his eyes were fixed on the growing threat. The fear in them scared Celede more than Gandalf's naming of the monster.

"This foe is beyond any of you," Gandalf said. Then he cried, "Run!"

They ran, even faster than they had run before, towards another small door leading out of the chamber. Boromir led the way and plunged through the door before he suddenly stopped, trying to catch his balance. Celede slowed to a stop behind him, but Legolas rushed forward to pull Boromir back from the precipice, overcompensated and fell to the ground with him. Celede pulled Boromir to his feet, but Legolas shrugged her off as she tried to help him. Aragorn led the rest of the Fellowship down a narrow stone staircase on their right, and Celede quickly followed, trying to ignore Legolas beside her. They climbed down staircase after staircase as fast as they could without falling. The stone steps were cracked and very thin, making it difficult to keep their balance.

Celede looked up ahead to see a large gap in the center of the staircase they were on. It would be dangerous to jump across, but doable. Legolas leaped across with ease, and Celede quickly followed, landing on her feet easily and without Legolas's aid. The rest of the group hesitated on the other side.

"Gandalf," Legolas called, gesturing for him to jump. As he did so, an arrow came whizzing by the Fellowship, narrowly missing the wizard. Celede and Legolas both drew their bows and turned in response to the new threat. Although neither of them could see the orcs, they both judged where the orcs would be based on the origin of the arrows. Celede took into account the rising hot air as she fired her arrow slightly below her target. She watched the arrow rise up as it flew and was rewarded by a scream and the small dark figure of an orc falling into the abyss. Legolas's arrow had found its mark on another orc as well.

"I'll cover you. Help the others," Celede said, the first words she had spoken to Legolas since the kiss. Without waiting for an answer, she stepped in front of him and began firing arrows. She heard Gimli scream, "Not the beard!" at one point, but kept her focus on the orcs. She only needed to aim at the same places each time, as the orcs would replace each other in the same positions on either side of pillars. She shot as quickly as she could, but arrows continued to rain down on the group as the never-ending line of orcs continued.

A loud cracking sound caught Celede's attention. She fired another arrow and glanced over to see the Frodo and Aragorn had still not attempted the leap, but pieces of the staircase were falling off, widening the distance between them.

"Frodo! Estel!" she cried in panic. An arrow whizzed by their heads, and Celede ripped her gaze away to continue to fire upon the orcs. She had to trust them to get across themselves and help in the only way she could. The entire staircase was crumbling, and the others could only watch as the staircase leaned backwards. Then Aragorn cried, "Lean forward!"

With a groan, the staircase began to fall forward, towards the Fellowship. Boromir and Legolas waited with open arms as Aragorn and Frodo came towards them.

"Come on!" Legolas said fervently. Celede spared a glance. If the staircase didn't fall to the side, Aragorn and Frodo would make it. The weight of the staircase kept it on course, and with a collision that shook the entire staircase and caused Celede to stumble, Aragorn flew into Legolas's arms and Frodo was flung into Boromir's.

"Run!" Aragorn gasped as he moved past her, and Celede sent a final arrow into the orcs before following them down the stairs. When they finally reached the base, Celede was breathing hard. She could hear the demon behind them though and didn't slow her pace. Gandalf, however, slowed to a walk.

"Over the bridge!" Gandalf cried, his sword and staff drawn as he ushered them before him.

"Mithrandir," Celede asked worriedly. He pushed her on.

"Frodo has to make it out of here alive," he said meaningfully. Celede winced, unsure if he was reminding her of her improper moment with Legolas or if he was planning to do something in the near future. Either way, she nodded her understanding to Mithrandir and continued to run. She felt scorching heat as flames blossomed along the path behind her, and Celede looked back to catch her first glimpse of the Balrog. Its face floated in and out of the flames. Ram's horns framed its mouth, which opened to spout heat and fire at them. She gasped and followed the Fellowship as they continued to run for the bridge.

The bridge of Khazad-Dum was a narrow sliver of rock above a black abyss. They had to run single file across the bridge, and Celede feared that one slip would send one of them over to certain death. The hobbits went first with Aragorn and were followed by Gimli, Boromir, Legolas, and herself. She kept her eyes down on the path in front of her, watching Legolas's sure feet as he ran across in front of her. When she reached the other side, she turned around and her heart leaped into her throat. Mithrandir had stopped in the center of the bridge and turned to face the Balrog, who had reached the entrance to the bridge.

"You cannot pass!" Gandalf shouted, loud enough for all of them to hear. The Balrog drew itself up and burst into flame in defiance. Frodo called Mithrandir's name, but Celede could only watch the scene before her in silent horror as she held Frodo from running back to Gandalf. _Frodo has to make it out of here alive._

As Gandalf yelled at the demon, the Balrog formed a fiery spear in its hand and struck. Gandalf deflected the weapon with his staff. The collision sparked a white flash of light, but Gandalf remained unharmed. The Balrog snarled at him, its weapon gone, and a long whip formed in its hand. The demon snapped it menacingly, preparing to attack. Celede heard Gandalf scream with conviction as he raised his staff.

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

Gandalf brought the staff crashing down onto the bridge. Celede heard a small fissure of air escape, but for a moment nothing happened. The Balrog confidently stepped out onto the bridge, but Gandalf had weakened it enough. Under the Balrog's weight, the bridge collapsed, causing the demon to fall and leaving Gandalf standing at the edge of the abyss. For a moment, Celede thought Mithrandir had won. Their battle with the Balrog would end in victory, and everyone would escape Moria alive. There would be no regrets from anyone about the path they had chosen. Celede knew the forest of Lothlorien lay just beyond the mountain. The Fellowship would be safe once more.

Gandalf turned away from the Balrog, and Celede was about to shout his name in delight, when the Balrog's fiery whip snapped upwards, catching Gandalf's ankle and causing him to fall onto the stone with a cry of pain. The old wizard was quickly dragged to the edge of the abyss. Celede watched in terror as his staff and sword follow the Balrog into darkness, but Gandalf hung onto the edge of the bridge. Celede stared with renewed hope, silently urging Gandalf to pull himself out. Frodo screamed, wrestled away from her, and tried to run back to the bridge, but Boromir grabbed him and held him close. Orcs were beginning to congregate on the other side, and Celede knew they could not risk anyone, especially Frodo, going to help Gandalf. _Frodo has to make it out of here alive._

Celede would later guess that Mithrandir knew one of them would try to go back for him, and that is why he did what he did. Perhaps he knew the Fellowship would lose more members coming back for him, or perhaps Gandalf wanted to finish what he started. The Balrog had fallen, but it was not dead. Perhaps Gandalf had wanted to retrieve his staff and his sword. Whatever his reasons, Gandalf stopped struggling to get back onto the bridge. Celede realized what was coming next and wanted to look away, but she stood rooted to the spot. She could do nothing but watch and listen as Gandalf's final words to them resounded over the abyss.

"Fly, you fools!"

Mithrandir, the wizard who had been a beloved mentor to her all her life, let go of the rock. He fell, plunging down into the abyss after the demon. When his body had disappeared into shadow, Celede turned away at last, the image of Gandalf falling from the bridge permanently embedded into her memory. She wanted to scream and cry and kill more orcs in her rage and grief, but mostly she wanted to fall into Legolas's arms and feel his quiet reassurance that they could be strong together. The thought that this was impossible made her even more furious with everything. Frodo's wails of despair fell over her from above, where Boromir was carrying him out. Boromir called her name and then Aragorn's, and Celede realized that everyone else had fled the mines. Only she and Aragorn remained. An arrow whizzed by his head, and he flinched but refused to turn away. As an arrow landed by her feet, Celede finally moved into action, numbly grabbing Aragorn's arm and dragging him away. He followed her with his head bowed, but once they were moving, Celede found it easier to keep going and get away. She broke into a run up the stairs and out of the mines.

When Celede finally stepped into the brilliant sunlight, she knew they were safe for a moment. The orcs would not pursue them in daylight. The sun shone brilliantly upon them as fluffy white clouds drifted over the peaceful blue sky. Celede wanted to scream at the sky and make it feel the loss she felt. Mithrandir was dead, and yet the land was carrying on like always. It shouldn't be that way. Aragorn staggered away from her and fell to his knees onto the hard stone, his head bowed. His shoulder began to shake with silent sobs, and Celede looked away with tears in her eyes.

Celede remained standing, watching the rest of the Fellowship with a heavy heart. For a moment, she joined them in silent grief over Mithrandir. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she watched Merry and Pippin crying into each other. Sam sobbed nearby. Boromir was trying to keep Gimli from charging back into the mine. Frodo was walking aimlessly away from them, and Celede knew he was feeling lost and alone without Mithrandir. She felt the same, as if Mithrandir had been a rope tying her to this world and now he had let her go to float away on the wind. Mithrandir had been their security and their sense of safety, and now he was gone. Legolas stood by Merry and Pippin, looking hurt and confused, as if he was having trouble comprehending what had happened. His eyes flitted to Celede, and she saw his grief reflected in his blue eyes before he quickly turned away from her.

_Frodo has to make it out of here alive_, Celede heard Mithrandir's voice again in her mind. There would be a time for mourning the wizard, but now was not that time. Feeling as if her heart would burst from pain, Celede shook Aragorn's shoulder gently, and he looked up at her in despair.

"Estel, we have to get moving. We need to reach Lothlorien before night comes and the orcs overrun these hills."

She felt horrible making everyone move, but Aragorn understood the wisdom in her words, and he had the strength she did not in rousing everyone else. She stood silently as he gathered everyone and only began to move when the Fellowship did once more. Before anyone was ready, the group was silently trudging over rocks and across streams, heading for the forest of Lothlorien. As the stones finally turned to grass beneath her feet, Celede felt them pass through the magic wards placed over the Elvish forest as an initial barrier to evil. She was in familiar territory now, in the home of her mother and grandmother. Celede wiped her tears from her face and held her head up with new resolution. At a time when the Fellowship needed guidance the most, when Celede herself needed words of wisdom, she knew that Lady Galadriel would be waiting to provide it to them.


	16. Laments in Lothlorien

_**A/N: The joys of summer and more frequent updates... :-) As always, reviews help me keep writing! I am also afraid that although everything makes sense in my head, the reasons characters are doing things isn't always clear in my writing. If a character's reasoning or actions don't make sense to you, please review and let me know! Enjoy!**_

Celede breathed in the sweet, familiar fragrance of Lothlorien. The ground felt more alive, and even the air seemed crisper the deeper they entered the realm. This forest was just on the outskirts of Galadriel's protection, but Celede felt safer and more protected than she ever had since she had left Rivendell. She gently ran her fingers along a nearby tree, reveling in the strength of the forest. If she listened closely, she thought she could hear the voices of Elves singing. She was back among her people, and she loved it.

"Stay close, young Hobbits!" Gimli's voice broke through her reverie, "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods, an Elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell…and are never seen again."

Celede bit back a choked laugh and quickly hid it as a cough, thinking of what her grandmother would say about being called an "Elf-witch." She gave a sidelong glance at Legolas, but he was looking ahead. Her face fell. How was she going to make things right between them again? Could they continue to be friends? Maybe it was better this way, she thought sadly, to be completely separate from each other.

Frodo drew her attention away from her thoughts and back to reality. He was gazing around warily, as if spooked by something only he had heard.

"Mister Frodo?" Sam asked worriedly.

"There is no reason to fear, Frodo," Celede told the hobbit firmly, "You are under my protection, and this is my land now."

Just as she said it, a patrol descended upon them. Wearing long grey robes, the Lorien Elves emerged from the shadows of the woods, pointing their bows and arrows at every member of the Fellowship. Legolas had slipped out his own bow, but the Fellowship was overwhelmed.

"Lay down your weapons!" Celede commanded in Elvish. They hesitated, and Celede realized she did not recognize any of them. If she didn't know them, then how would they know who she was?

"The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark," came a drawling voice from ahead of her. Celede relaxed in relief as the speaker stepped forward and removed his hood.

"Haldir," she said. The Elf looked at her, surprise flitting across his face.

"It cannot be," he murmured.

"Haldir, it's me, Celede, daughter of Celebrian. Tell your patrol to put down their weapons."

Haldir had already raised a hand, and the patrol relaxed. Legolas slowly lowered his own bow as Celede pointedly tried to stop her habit of noticing his every movement. She stepped forward and embraced her old friend. He stiffened under her arms and she quickly stepped back with a bow of her head. After living informally with the Fellowship for so many weeks and being stressed from the events of the day, Celede had forgotten Elvish custom and propriety. Haldir was far beneath her position, and not someone she should be touching, let alone embracing. Luckily, Haldir took one look at her haggard appearance and did not seem to hold her slip against her.

"We have much to discuss," Haldir told her, "But let us not stand hear idly. Evil has been growing, and my lady fears her wards may not hold this close to the border. We must seek safety deeper into the forest."

Celede was surprised. The wards may not hold? _Lady Galadriel's wards could fail?_ As the patrol began to retreat further into the forest, Celede, Legolas, and Aragorn moved to follow. The rest of the Fellowship stayed put. Realizing none of them had understood the conversation, Celede quickly turned to them.

"We are among friends now," she said quickly, "But they tell me we will be safer further in."

Gimli harrumphed.

"They just pointed arrows at us!"

"They didn't know who I was then," Celede said quietly.

"And who are you, exactly?" Merry inquired.

Celede hesitated, wondering whether to tell them her heritage or not. They knew she was related to Elrond, but not anyone else…

"I am an old friend here," she finally said. Then she turned around and hurried to the front, where Haldir was.

"My lady," Haldir said with a slight bow of his head, but he did not slow down.

"What do you mean Lady Galadriel's wards are in danger of falling?" Celede demanded.

"Evil is growing within Mordor. Orcs across the land are getting bolder, and more and more are attempting to cross into Lothlorien every night. And now you are among the company of an even greater evil. I am bringing you to safety because of your relation to my lady, and because I know you well enough to understand that you would not follow me without your group. But I will not allow this evil to penetrate the home of the Lorien Elves."

"Haldir, we are on a journey to rid this land of evil, and we need help. We need a place to rest, in peace, and then we will be out of your way."

"We? What exactly are you doing on this journey, my lady? I cannot fathom why you are a part of this group. Did your father approve of this venture? Surely he would not, just as your mother would not-"

"That's enough," Celede said sharply. Although she hated using her position so, Celede still outranked Haldir, and she would not allow such talk. Her own thoughts towards her father were painful enough.

The Fellowship walked in uneasy silence as night fell. Tiny lamps illuminated the forest from above, and Haldir led them up a set of stairs circled around a tree until they reached a platform within the canopy.

"You shall be safe here," Haldir announced, "And I do not believe we have yet exchanged the proper greetings."

He nodded to Celede.

"Celede, daughter of Elrond and my departed lady Celebrian, you are always welcome here," he said in Elvish.

All traces of his earlier argument with her were gone, and Celede could not begrudge him further.

"Haldir of Lorien, I thank you for your kind words of hospitality," she said with a bow of her head.

Haldir turned to Legolas, who had been standing behind her, and Celede quickly shifted to the side to allow Legolas room to greet Haldir. She was careful not to touch Legolas.

"Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion." _Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil._

Celede heard the reverence in Haldir's voice, and she quickly quieted the skip of her heart at the sound of Legolas's formal title.

"Govannas vin gwennen le, Haldir o Lorien," Legolas replied. _Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lorien._

Haldir looked at Aragorn then, and his expression was guarded.

"Aragorn in Dunedain, istannen le amen." _Aragorn of the Dunedain, you are known to us. _

Haldir's words brought back memories of Celede's last journey here with Aragorn. Haldir had clearly not forgotten Aragorn's impropriety the last time they had met, when Arwen had been wounded.

"Haldir," Aragorn said with a small bow and twist of his arm over his chest, this time calm and composed.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves! Speak words we can all understand!" Gimli announced aloud, and Haldir's eyes snapped downwards to the Dwarf. A look of disdain was clear on his face, and Celede winced, willing Gimli to shut up. She had gotten the chance over the past few weeks to befriend Gimli and forgive his brash comments, but Haldir had not.

"We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days," Haldir said scathingly in the Common Tongue.

"And you know what this dwarf says to that?" Gimli said, then in Dwarvish, "Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul!" _I spit upon your grave!_

Celede was ready to slap him, but Aragorn beat her there. He spun around, grabbed Gimli and said angrily, "That was not so courteous."

Haldir seemed pacified by Aragorn's sentiment at least, and his gaze shifted to Frodo.

"You bring great evil with you," he said to Frodo. Then to them all he declared firmly, "You can go no further."

Celede felt the others turn to glance at Frodo in unhappiness, but she ignored them. Aragorn made a move to talk to Haldir, but she laid a hand on his arm.

"Let me," Celede said quietly in the Common Tongue, before she moved past him towards Haldir.

"Haldir, I would have you listen to me," Celede said quietly in Elvish, "You must let us pass into Caras Galadhon."

"I do not need to let you do anything of the sort. You, my lady, are free to go where you wish within this realm, but I will not take evil any closer to Lady Galadriel."

"We need your protection. The road is dangerous. We need time to rest and replenish our supplies."

"Then you must do so elsewhere. I cannot help you."

"Please, try to understand, we need your help. We need my grandmother's help," Celede pleaded, "She knows of the evil Frodo carries and of this mission. She is prepared for it."

"The danger is too great. I will not endanger my lord and lady."

"Who are you to decide what evil is too great for the Lady Galadriel? You and I both know she would rather have the evil presented before her so she knows what she is facing than to have it slink around her borders."

Haldir was silent for a moment, and Celede pressed her advantage.

"Take us directly to her," Celede suggested, "Let my grandmother decide what to do with us. I will take full responsibility for this action. Upon my word, I will put the Fellowship directly into her hands. We will go nowhere else in Lothlorien besides where she dictates and where you lead us. But we need your help. We are desperate. I am desperate."

Haldir was silent for a moment. Then he turned to the Fellowship, his face grim.

"You will follow me."

Celede sighed in relief. They climbed down the tree and began heading further into the realm. When the hobbits looked ready to drop where they stood, Celede persuaded Haldir to let them rest for the remainder of the night. Haldir seemed irritated by her continuous demands, but he allowed the break. As soon as the sun began to rise, however, they were off again. Haldir seemed determined to get them in and out of Lorien as quickly as possible, and Celede did not blame him. It was his duty to guard the forest from evil, and she knew he was going against all of his instincts to bring them and the Ring to Lady Galadriel.

Around midmorning, the group finally reached a high ridge overlooking a great glade of trees before them. Celede could see their destination, less than a day's ride away, and she could feel the power emanating from the forest.

"Caras Galadhon," Haldir spoke with great reverence, his irritation temporarily gone as he gazed upon his beloved homeland, "The heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."

Both Haldir and Aragorn glanced at Celede, but she ignored them. As the group began to move again, she jumped when Legolas suddenly touched her arm. They had barely acknowledged each other's existence since Moria.

"Have you told the rest of them?" he asked quietly in Elvish, "Who your family is here?"

"No," Celede replied softly, and she felt rather than heard Legolas scoff beside her.

"Of course. Because everything is a secret with you."

Celede whipped around to face him, eyes flashing.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Legolas met her gaze with an equally cold one.

"I think you know."

Celede did not know, however, and she pondered his words throughout the final leg of their walk. She barely noticed the towering trees with their coiled roots or the winding staircases that led up to the homes of the Elves in Caras Galadhon. They arrived in late evening, and by the time they reached the curved stair that would bring them to her grandparents, night had fallen and the realm was lit with hundreds of tiny silvery lights embedded into the framework that glittered and sparkled as they ascended. Finally, they passed along a walkway in the canopy to stand at the foot of another low set of stairs. Haldir disappeared, and the Fellowship waited alone for the grand appearance of their hosts.

Celede's grandparents arrived glowing so brightly that they could not be seen at first. As the light dimmed, Celede could make out Galadriel's hand resting lightly upon Celeborn's arm, which was outstretched for her. Celede looked up in nervous anticipation. The last time she had been here, Galadriel had shown Celede her future, and Celede's world had been rocked to its core.

As the couple descended the stairs, the light emanating from them faded away completely, and Celede saw them clearly at last. She could sense the wonder that the rest of the Fellowship felt, but Celede saw only the familiarity of family. Celeborn gave her a kind look, but Galadriel ignored her, laying eyes on Frodo. After a moment, Celeborn turned away from Celede and addressed the entire Fellowship.

"The enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone," he proclaimed.

"Nine there are here, yet ten there were that set out from Rivendell," Celeborn continued in a softer voice, "Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

Celede knew Celeborn had a very good idea of what had happened to Mithrandir, and he simply wanted to hear the shocking news aloud, to confirm his suspicions. Galadriel spoke though, adding her knowledge to the conversation.

"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into shadow."

Celede wished her grandmother wasn't always so right.

"He was taken by both Shadow and Flame: a Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria," Legolas finally said, confirming everything. Galadriel caught his subtle insult to Gimli with a raised brow.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life," she gently reprimanded, "We do not yet know his whole purpose."

Galadriel comforted Gimli then, and Celede felt Legolas shift in surprise that the Lady of Lorien would deign to address a Dwarf.

"Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin, for the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief."

It was Celede's turn to shift uncomfortably. Was Galadriel insinuating something further? She could never tell with her grandmother. Celeborn and Galadriel continued talking, but Celede sensed it was small talk for the rest of the Fellowship, and that Galadriel was taking the time to talk to each member of the Fellowship with her mind. Celede did not need to be gifted with foresight to know that Galadriel's attention would eventually come to her, but she was surprised at how simple the exchange was.

_Welcome, daughter of my daughter. We have much to discuss. Stay after the Fellowship has been dismissed._

_Yes, my lady._

Soon after, Galadriel dismissed the Fellowship.

"Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace."

As the Fellowship turned to head back the way they had come, Celede moved aside to let them pass.

"Aren't you coming?" Pippin inquired. The rest of the Fellowship watched her expectantly. Celede was especially aware of Legolas's eyes upon her, criticizing her. _Because everything is a secret with you. _

"No," she said quietly, "I will catch up with you later. I need to talk further with…my mother's parents."

Only Aragorn and Legolas did not turn to her with looks of shock upon their faces. Celede's cheeks burned, and she glanced at Legolas defiantly, daring him to judge her now. But his eyes had softened, and he was looking at her with uncertainty. Unsure how to react, Celede waved them on, refusing to look at any of them. Soon she was alone with Celeborn and Galadriel.

Celeborn raised his arms toward her, and Celede stepped into his embrace. His strong yet gentle touch reminded her of her father, and she buried her face into his robes. Celeborn held her tightly for a moment before releasing her. He looked her over, assessing her health.

"You've been injured," he hissed, gently touching the cut on her chest, but the dull ache of so much loss in her heart overpowered the sharp pain of her broken skin.

"It's quite shallow, my lord," she said quietly, but Celeborn insisted on cleaning it. As he went to tell a servant to bring water and clean bandages, Celede was left alone with Galadriel. Celede tried to tell her grandmother how she received the wound, but her voice broke as she was overcome with despair and grief.

"Your wound pains you more than it should," Galadriel said. Celede nodded, fighting back tears.

"I lost-" Celede began, forcing herself to say the words aloud, "I lost my Evenstar when I received this cut. It shattered into a million tiny pieces. Everything you showed me in the mirror is coming true and I'm going to die alone…without ever telling him how much I love him."

She gasped at the last part of her sentence, looking up at her grandmother in worry. She hadn't meant to mention Legolas. It had just slipped out. Galadriel watched her for a long moment.

"That jewel was simply a jewel," Galadriel finally said, "It is up to the wearer to attribute meaning to it."

Celede bit back a reply as Celeborn returned. Didn't her grandmother understand? She, the wearer, knew that her Evenstar's destruction confirmed she was meant to die, unable to be with the Elf she loved.

Galadriel watched in silence as Celeborn returned and gently cleaned the wound. Celede refused to acknowledge the stinging pain, and it was easily overwhelmed by the heavy turmoil and pain in her heart.

"Your father will be glad to know you have reached here safely," Celeborn said softly. Celede's eyes inexplicably filled with tears again, and she furiously blinked them away.

"No, he won't," she replied, "He gave me the choice of remaining his daughter or joining the Fellowship, and I chose the Fellowship. I turned my back on him, and so he has turned his back on me."

"No, child," Celeborn said gently, "Your father loves you and has fought for you from the very beginning, and nothing you do is ever going to change that."

Celede's heart ached even more. Her grandfather was trying to comfort her, but she didn't believe him. He hadn't heard the coldness in her father's voice as he raged: _if you choose to leave on this ill fated quest tomorrow, then I will have lost my daughter_. She thought being among family would be a balm to her grief, but Celeborn was opening old wounds and memories Celede thought she had buried deep down. At that moment, Celede was ready to give anything to see her brothers, sister, and father one last time before her death. Anything but abandon the quest, though. She remained lost in thought as Celeborn finished his task.

"I had the servants prepare your old rooms," Celeborn said at last as he turned to leave, "A bath is waiting for you. I bid you make haste before the water cools. Gandalf's lament will also begin imminently. If you'd like to partake in the song, I would suggest moving quickly."

"Of course, my lord," Celede replied with a nod of her head, "I will return to my rooms to bathe but not to sleep. I am still a member of the Fellowship and I will stay with our camp."

Celeborn frowned, but simply said, "As you wish."

Celede glanced at Galadriel. Her grandmother seemed about to say more, but she held back, and Celede turned and left them before Galadriel could change her mind.

A wave of nostalgia overcame Celede as she entered the canopy rooms that had always been hers. She knew Arwen stayed in rooms just beside her and her parents' rooms were across the bridge in a neighboring tree. Celede remembered reading or playing games with her father late into the night and having to scamper back across the bridge to her rooms in the dark. She glanced to the side of the doorway and saw the wind chime her father had attached to the wooden frame. He always had her ring it when she returned so he knew that she had reached her rooms safely in the dark. Celede touched the chime gently with her fingers, hearing the familiar jingle that brought fresh heartache. How she missed her father.

Back in her rooms, the bath awaited her just as her grandfather had promised, and although Celede had planned to take a short bath, she sank into the pleasure of warm water and cleanliness. She felt muscles she hadn't known were tense begin to relax after weeks of stress. She poured jug after jug of water over her head, and the bathwater turned darker as her hair became lighter, slowly returning to its glowing silver-blonde sheen. After weeks of taking watch and camping in the wilderness with men, it seemed almost surreal to be able to bathe and afterwards don a shimmering white gown and a silver circlet over clean, combed hair. Celede decided to leave her hair down and her feet bare, and she had just turned to leave her chambers when the first lilts of Elvish voices reached her ears. Gandalf's lament had begun.

Mithrandir had been alive for so long that all of Lothlorien seemed to have known him and now joined in grieving his death. Elves lined the staircases and canopies with lamps in their hands as they joined their voices in song. A servant brought Celede a lantern, and she stood at the edge of her balcony with the light raised high. She threw all her grief into the song for Gandalf, adding her voice to those of her fellow mourning kinsmen.

"Mithrandir, Mithrandir!  
><em>Mithrandir, Mithrandir<em>  
>A Randir Vithren!<br>_O Pilgrim Grey_  
>Ú-reniathach<br>_You will not wander_  
>i amar galen<br>_the green earth_  
>I reniad lín ne môr, nuithannen<br>_Your journey in darkness, ended._  
>In gwidh ristennin,<br>_The bonds cut,_  
>i fae narchannen<br>_the spirit rent_  
>I Lach Anor<br>_The Flame of Anor  
><em>ed ardhon gwannen  
><em>from earth departed<em>  
>Calad veleg, ethuiannen.<br>_A great light, blown out.  
><em>Melmelma nóren sina  
><em>Our love for this land<br>_Núra lá earo núri  
><em>Is deeper than the deeps of the sea<em>  
>Ilfirin nairelma<br>_Our regret is undying_  
>Ananta ilyar eccatuvalme<br>_Yet we will cast all away_  
>Ar ullume nucuvalme<br>_Rather than submit_  
>Nauva i nauva.<br>_What should be shall be."_

The words were dark and sorrowful, meant to convey images instead of literal meaning, and Celede poured all of her pent-up emotion and sadness into her voice. She saw several of the Elves nearby shed tears of grief, but Celede did not allow herself to cry. Instead, she flung the prickling behind her eyes out through her voice, channeling her sorrow into the music. By the time the lament reached its sad conclusion, Celede felt drained and exhausted, but also refreshed. There was still much pain and anger harboring in her for other reasons, but she felt lighter after releasing some of her grief over Gandalf at last. There was a moment of silence as the song ended, and none of the Elves moved from their positions. Then, gradually, Elves began to slip away to their homes to grieve alone or return to their daily lives. Celede stood out on the balcony longer than most before she finally felt ready to let go of Mithrandir and move on. She would be true to her word and sleep at the base of the canopy with the rest of the Fellowship. Their quest was far from complete, and she couldn't let Mithrandir's death destroy her resolve. Besides, being among the hobbits would do her good. They had always cheered her in the past.

Celede descended the stairs hurriedly, but she stopped when she noticed a certain Elf walking past the base of the tree. A memory of herself at the top of the stairs in Rivendell preparing to greet Legolas rose unbidden into her mind, and he seemed just as cold and forbidding now as he was when he had arrived at the Council of Elrond. That day seemed like an eternity ago, but Celede took a deep breath, just as nervous as she had been that day in Rivendell. She needed to confront him once more. Even though she regretted their kiss and its consequences, Legolas had saved her life and she owed him her gratitude.

"Legolas, wait a moment," she called softly as she continued down the stairs to meet him at the base of the tree. He paused and turned to wait for her. He too had changed into Lorien garb, with a long silver tunic and dark grey leggings, and Celede hastily shoved thoughts of his attractiveness aside. There was no place for them anymore; there never had been. Legolas's bright eyes betrayed none of his feelings as he stood silently, waiting for her to speak.

"I want to thank you for saving my life in Moria," Celede said, and Legolas inclined his head.

"We both know it was a mistake," she continued, "but no harm came of it-"

"A mistake?" Legolas interrupted sharply, "_We _both know? Don't pretend to understand me, Celede. If you think I regret kissing you and saving your life, then you are sorely mistaken."

"But we put ourselves first and the quest second. Of course it was wrong of us," Celede said in confusion.

"So I am supposed to regret the fact that you are alive?"

Celede's face fell. She hadn't thought about it that way, but slowly she nodded. She watched as Legolas's eyes hardened and his brows furrowed in anger.

"What goes on in that mind of yours?" he demanded, "Do you have a death wish? Why are you so intent on dying and regretting the fact that you are still alive?"

"I don't. I'm not," Celede bit back, "Trust me, I value life as much as you do and-"

"Do you, Celede? Do you? Because you haven't given me that impression at all. When were you going to tell me, or tell anyone about your affliction? Why didn't you bring the medicine that can help you when you seize? Why did you keep it a secret?"

"That was never your business. Who told you about that?" Celede replied, ignoring his questions.

"Does it matter? Not you."

"It was one of my brothers, wasn't it," she stated flatly. It was not a question.

"Yes. Elrohir, if you must know. He told me the night before we left because he cares about you. So many people are concerned for your life, but you seem to have no worries at all. You cast your life aside as if it is worth nothing, without a care in the world about what your death would do to the people who love you."

"Of course I care," Celede hissed, "I care about that more than I care about myself. But you and I both know that we joined the Fellowship to save Middle Earth, and that means saving Frodo first, not ourselves. If I told everyone of my affliction, do you think they would trust me to fight beside them to save Frodo? Everyone already treats me differently because I am a maiden on this quest. Boromir already believes I'm the weakest link, and I didn't want to give anyone any other incentive to look out for me."

"So you would have preferred if I didn't know anything? If I didn't know that you were ill or how to save you? You would have preferred it if I couldn't save you?" Legolas's voice rose in anger.

"Yes, because when you save me, you deserted Frodo!" Celede cried, and hurt flitted across Legolas's face.

"Middle Earth needs to survive this evil," she continued, willing him to understand, "Not me. I value my life, but I would gladly give it up for the happiness of Arwen and Aragorn and the world bigger than myself."

"But don't you deserve some happiness too? Why do you think your happiness cannot occur alongside the happiness of others? You say you don't have feelings for me, but I know you do. I'm thousands of years older than you, and you made me question my instincts once, but not anymore."

"I don't-"

"Don't deny it, Celede," Legolas said fiercely, "In the mines, you kissed me back. I felt it. Stop lying to me about your feelings. I know you feel for me as much as I do for you. Why won't you accept that? What's stopping us from being together?"

"It's-" Celede stuttered. She couldn't say the truth out loud, couldn't tell him her greatest weakness of all. _It's because I am destined to die. _

"It's because I could die," she finally blurted out, "And I don't want to cause you pain."

"You are already causing pain, for both of us," Legolas said, "I spend every day wondering why you turn me away when we could be happy with each other. I don't know why you think you are going to die-"

"Don't be stupid, Legolas," Celede said angrily, tears sparking in her eyes, "we are on a quest to destroy Sauron by entering Sauron's stronghold! Mithrandir is already dead. He was the one person I thought could never fall, and he's gone now. None of us are invincible. Mithrandir was the most experienced, most powerful member of the Fellowship and now he is gone, Legolas. Gone. Any one of us could be next. And you can tell me with surety that I will survive this? That you will?"

"Just because Mithrandir fell does not mean anyone else in the Fellowship will-"

"But can't you understand, Legolas? I don't want to be with you and then lose you. I don't want to cause you suffering if I die either." _And my death is inevitable. _

Legolas's blue eyes burned brightly into hers.

"I would rather spend one day and one night with you than regret missing the opportunity for eternity."

Celede closed her eyes, willing the tears to not fall. She wanted so badly to believe Legolas, to have everything be alright if she lived out her limited days in his arms. If he could accept the pain of losing her, she wanted nothing more than to fight beside him, save him from orcs as he saved her…but that was precisely why she couldn't agree in the end.

"You are forgetting something again, Legolas. Our priority must first and foremost always be Frodo," she said quietly, "I appreciate what you did for me in Moria, but that cannot happen again. I'm sorry, Legolas, but as long as we are members of the Fellowship, protecting Frodo and guiding the Ring towards Mordor, we cannot be anything more than allies with a common goal. You are right that I have been unkind to you in the past by hinting at more than I am willing to give. From this moment on, there will be no further lapses in judgment on my part."

Celede stared at him, refusing to back down in her decision, even as Legolas stared back at her with anger and frustration.

"You foolish child," he said cruelly, and Celede flinched. He had never treated her as younger than him before.

"You think you are noble and selfless, but you will cause more pain and suffering in following this path. If you are so afraid of drawing attention away from Frodo, then you should stay in Lorien and leave the Fellowship."

Legolas turned on his heel and stalked back in the direction of the Fellowship. His words cut deeply into Celede, like knives stabbing her heart. She turned away, one hand pressed in a fist against her chest, unable to follow him back to the camp. Could Legolas be right? Would it be better if she stayed in Lorien? But Celede had pledged her life to Frodo, and she would not back down no matter how unwanted Legolas made her feel. That was the point she'd tried to make after all, wasn't it? If Legolas grew distant with her, he'd ignore her and focus on keeping Frodo safe. It just hurt so much to feel him distance himself from her. No wonder he had been so angered by her previous rebukes.

Celede fled deeper into Lothlorien, anxious to stay away from the Fellowship as she recollected her thoughts. Suddenly Frodo appeared before her, climbing the stairs out of a familiar valley in the ground. His pale face looked shaken but determined. Celede had been afraid that she would feel anger towards Frodo for being one of the main reasons why she and Legolas had separated again, but all she saw was a brave little hobbit in unfamiliar territory, struggling with his own grief and overwhelming responsibility. They were alike in many ways, Celede thought sadly.

"Are you alright, my lady?" he asked her first, noticing her stricken face.

"Yes, I'm fine," Celede paused. There was only one explanation for Frodo's frightened but resolved expression. She had felt the same way after she had looked, too.

"She showed you the mirror, didn't she?" Celede said.

Frodo's startled look confirmed her suspicion.

"We will keep you safe, Frodo," Celede said, trying to comfort him while reigning in her own emotional turmoil, "The Ring will be destroyed and Middle Earth with experience joy and plenty for years to come."

"How can you be so sure?" Frodo asked with a frown.

"Because I'm sure that we will all give everything we have to ensure Sauron's defeat."

"How do you know that everything we have will be enough?"

Celede had asked herself that very question many times and found no answer. So much for comforting Frodo.

"I don't," she replied honestly, "But I have to believe that everything we have suffered and will suffer on this quest will be worth it in the end. We cannot lose hope, Frodo."

"No, we cannot," he agreed seriously, and Celede realized she didn't truly believe what she had said until Frodo repeated it back to her. He was a courageous hobbit and always knew the right thing to say, and Celede knew at that moment that she had made the right choice. She would forfeit her love and her life for the sake of this one hobbit and the destruction of the burden he carried, and she would not regret it.

"Get some sleep, Frodo," she said gently.

"You do the same," he replied, "Good night, my lady."

Celede couldn't return to the Fellowship yet, however, as her argument with Legolas came flooding back into her mind. _You foolish child, _Legolas had said, and angry tears burned in her eyes again. Why couldn't Legolas understand? He was making everything so much more difficult by being cruel. Celede kicked a rock furiously as she continued walking away from the camp, skirting around the basin to avoid her grandmother. Lost in thought, she absentmindedly followed a river of water until it fell over a rocky overhang into a pool of water. Nimbly, she hopped down from rock to rock beside the waterfall until she reached the bottom. The water rushed past her soothingly, colliding with the pool and creating a fine mist that sprayed Celede, causing her hair and gown to stick to her. Soaking wet, she sank to her knees and put her face in her hands. There was no one around at last, and no one to hear, and her break with Legolas had brought all of her tumultuous emotions back to the surface. Celede gave in to her misery and despair one last time in the long, difficult day. Sobs soon racked her body, but she made no effort to stop them. She cried for her separation from her father, her brothers, Arwen, and her mother, for the loss of Balin and Ori and Mithrandir, for the tenuousness of Middle Earth, and for yet another painful argument with Legolas. The waterfall carried her tears away and hid her sorrow from the rest of the world.

ooOOoo

In the deepest part of the tower of Isengard, Saruman the White was preparing an army stronger even than the ranks of Sauron. He gazed proudly from a high balcony out over rows upon rows of huge, monstrous orcs that he had named Uruk-hai. They were equipped with various helmets and other armor or none at all, but most carried a weapon that Saruman himself had invented. It was a sword on one side, but instead of a hilt, the other side was bent and tapered to a blade that protruded sideways from the actual sword. Saruman had designed this pick-like addition to make it easier for his Uruk-hai to pull men off horseback and disarm them, which would come in handy for them in the near future. Saruman smiled as he looked at them. He had handcrafted the perfect weapons for his purpose, and all of his Uruk-hai bore his symbol, the White Hand, somewhere on their armor or bodies. Saruman reveled in the fact that this supreme fighting force would bow to no one but him, and now he had a plan for them. The Fellowship wouldn't know what hit them.

"Hunt them down. Do not stop until they are found. You do not know pain. You do not know fear. You will taste man-flesh!" he cried to them.

The hall erupted with inhuman roars and screams of excitement and pleasure. Saruman let them cheer as he turned to give final instructions to his lead Uruk-hai, Lurtz. Saruman's finest specimen, Lurtz was not only strong but skilled and particularly adept at using a bow and arrow. All the other Uruk-hai were down below, but Saruman had brought Lurtz up to join him on the balcony.

"One of the Halflings carries something of great value. Bring them to me alive and unspoiled. There is also a She-Elf in their midst. I guarantee her flesh will be tastier than any Man's. My only command is that before you kill her and eat her, you must torture her. I don't care how, but she must suffer greatly in your hands. Our success in the war against Rivendell and Lord Elrond depends on how much agony you can put her in. Do you understand? Kill the others."

Lurtz grunted in acknowledgement and excitement. Then he left Saruman to join his army as they ran out of Isengard and began their pursuit. Lurtz didn't need to travel in the front, for he knew frontrunners were often the first ones killed, and he was better suited to be in the center and in control.

Saruman continued to watch as the Uruk-hai filed out. Sauron was amassing an army to destroy Gondor and the world of Men, and Saruman had been tasked with preventing the other races from interfering. The Dwarves of Moria had been destroyed and the Fellowship would soon be as well, but Saruman's war with the Elves continued to bear fruitless results. Saruman needed a new way to break the spirit of the Elves, and what better way to do so than to torture and kill a beloved member of both the families of Rivendell and Lorien? Elrond and Galadriel watched the war from afar, he knew, and Saruman was certain they'd both receive the torture and death of Celebrian's beloved daughter with great distress, particularly Elrond. During the days that he had been on their side, Saruman had observed Elrond's greatest weakness was his children. Lurtz would make sure Celede's torture was far worse than anything Celebrian had suffered at the hands of wandering orcs, and perhaps that would be the blow Saruman needed to inflict in order to break Elrond and destroy Rivendell.

_**Disclaimer: Mithrandir's lament lyrics/translation comes from the youtube video by PeepMeow04. I take absolutely no credit for that or any of the quotes from the movie. As always, when in doubt, do not credit the writing to me! This is written for my own enjoyment (and hopefully yours too!)**_


	17. Aragorn's Advice

Gimli knew his favorite Elvish couple had taken a turn for the worse when Legolas came back with a silent scowl on his face and Celede never returned to the camp at all. Gimli supposed Celede may have chosen to stay among her family for the night, but from what he had seen of her devoted character, she would have done so only as a last resort. Gimli was tempted to ask the Elf Princeling where his beloved maiden had gone, but the brooding look on Legolas's face made Gimli decide it was not the best idea. As fog began to drift over the campsite, Gimli harrumphed and rolled over, going back to sleep. It was none of his business, after all.

Merry and Pippin had also noticed the tension in Legolas and the absence of Celede, but they had none of the reservations that Gimli did.

"Where's Celede?" Pippin asked out loud. Sam shot him an irritated look. Frodo had returned looking pained and worried soon after Legolas, and Sam had helped him go straight to bed. Sam did not want the frivolity of the other hobbits to interrupt his master's attempts at rest. Pippin ignored Sam, though, and watched Legolas expectantly for an answer. He was surprised when Legolas promptly ignored him and moved away to sit on the roots of a nearby tree.

"How rude," Pippin said to Merry. Merry frowned. Although Legolas was the one member of the Fellowship that he knew the least, Merry had never known him to be cold or rude to anyone.

"Perhaps he's had a very trying night, Pip," Merry said quietly. Pippin's face fell as he was reminded of Gandalf and the difficult day that they had all faced. Pippin hadn't been on the best of terms with the old wizard during their time in Moria. In fact, Pippin had seemed to be on the wrong side of Gandalf all the time, even when the wizard had come to set off fireworks in the Shire for Bilbo's birthday. That didn't stop Pippin from mourning Gandalf's death in the slightest though. In a rare pensive moment, Pippin regretted his final words with the old man. He had always admired the wizard greatly, despite their altercations, and now he'd never have the chance to let Gandalf know that.

"You should rest," came a gentle voice from behind the hobbits. Aragorn had silently crept up beside them, his gaze resting on Legolas. When the hobbits turned to look up at him, he looked down at them with a sigh.

"We leave at dawn tomorrow. No later," Aragorn said firmly.

"So soon?" Merry asked, his heart sinking. They had finally reached a place where he felt safe and secure, and he was only just beginning to relax at last.

"Every moment we spend resting is a moment Sauron can use to mount up his defenses. We cannot linger," Aragorn replied. As the hobbits scurried away towards their beds for the night, Aragorn returned his focus to Legolas.

"You seem troubled, my old friend," Aragorn said to Legolas in Elvish. Legolas turned to look at him, his eyes full of some deep emotion that Aragorn couldn't place. _Heartache?_ Legolas nodded his head at Aragorn's chest.

"How do you know that Arwen is the maiden for you?"

Aragorn thought for a moment, looking down at the Evenstar that Legolas had gestured to. He was unsurprised by the question, as he too had noticed that Celede had not returned to camp and figured the reason must have involved Legolas. Ever since Aragorn had been a child and first seen Legolas and Celede together, when Legolas had arrived long ago to warn them of Elladan's injury in the Battle of the Five Armies, Aragorn had noticed the attraction between the two. He'd often wondered why the two never seemed to go beyond simple friendship when they both so clearly felt more than that for each other.

"I was entranced by Arwen the moment I saw her," Aragorn began slowly. He found himself a bit uncertain about how to give advice to an Elf who was thousands of years older than he was. It didn't seem right.

"But no, that's not when my love truly started. I suppose I can't remember an exact moment when I realized I loved her enough to do anything for her. It grew to be that every time I laid eyes upon her or talked with her, I felt my heart lift and I could smile no matter what my previous mood had been. I began to anticipate her presence with great excitement, and when she wasn't beside me, I missed her. Perhaps an Elf would say something I found amusing, and then I would turn to laugh with her only to find that she was not there."

A slight smile grew on Aragorn's lips as he talked about Arwen, despite the strangeness of giving Legolas advice. Aragorn missed Arwen so much. He missed her shining eyes, her quick wit, her expressive mouth, her charming laugh...he wondered if she could ever fathom how much he wanted to see her again. He couldn't even put into words how much he loved her, but he'd try, for Legolas's sake.

"More than that, I realized during that time we found her and Celede in the woods that her safety and happiness were more important to me than anything. I was aware then that I would gladly give everything for Arwen. I would even give up seeing her ever again if I knew she would be safe among her people in the Undying Lands, away from the misery of Middle Earth."

Aragorn's voice caught, thinking of what path Arwen may have chosen. Before he'd left Rivendell, he'd pleaded with her to leave him forever, even though it would break both their hearts. He'd left before she made her choice, and now he'd never know her decision until after the end of this quest.  
>Legolas had been staring off into the distance as Aragorn spoke, but Aragorn knew from the tilt of his head that the Elf had been listening intently.<p>

"But how do you balance your love for her with your commitment to Middle Earth? To your lineage? To the Fellowship?"

Aragorn paused for a moment. He suspected Legolas wasn't just referring to him and Arwen.

"Because I believe I can devote myself to both her and Middle Earth," he said slowly, "The man Arwen fell in love with is still the man who wants to fight for what is right and good in this world. I suppose it sounds foolish, but by remaining true to the person I am, I feel that I am keeping our love alive. I will not drop everything to follow Arwen, no matter how much I may want to, and she will not give up everything blindly to follow me. We remain the people we fell in love with, and that makes our love stronger in the end, despite all the obstacles."

Legolas remained silent as he listened to Aragorn's advice. Aragorn stayed for a little while longer before clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder and leaving Legolas to his thoughts.

Legolas also vividly remembered the time they had found Celede in the woods after she and Arwen had been attacked. Although Arwen had been gravely wounded and Celede was exhausted from shock and worry, she had been strong enough and had the presence of mind to almost shoot him, a stranger, when they finally found her. Even as he had ducked to avoid her arrow, Legolas had greatly admired Celede's strength and loyalty to the people she loved. He had learned that Celede valued courage, doing the right thing, and putting others first to a fault.

Legolas sighed as he leaned against the tree whose roots he was standing on. Could he really begrudge Celede for keeping her affliction a secret? It was in her nature to be brave no matter the circumstances and to try to show no signs of weakness, no matter how difficult. Legolas loved that about her. Could he really begrudge her for putting the sake of the Fellowship and Middle Earth before him? It was who Celede was, a person who bore responsibility by caring for others first and herself second, and he loved her for it, even though it drove him crazy at the same time. And by pushing Legolas away, wasn't Celede showing him that she truly loved him for herself? She had put him second, behind the survival of Middle Earth and alongside herself. Legolas had wanted Celede to give up everything to be with him, but after listening to Aragorn, Legolas realized that the maiden who would choose to put herself before Middle Earth would not be the Celede he had grown to love.

Legolas's thoughts strayed towards Celede with sudden tenderness. He was falling for Celede all over again. Where was she, so he could apologize to her for being so cruel just now? Had he really called her a foolish child? He closed his eyes, suddenly ashamed. When she'd called their kiss a mistake, Legolas had felt a burning anger building inside of him, anger at her for rebuking him over and over but also anger at himself for not being able to stay away from her. By the Vala, Legolas had already gone through so much indecision and turmoil over her that he had even listened to the words of a Dwarf for advice. So when he saw that Celede was about to push him away again, Legolas had decided he was done being cast away. He had fought back and in the end had said foolish things that he now regretted.

Although he couldn't admit it to Celede during their last argument, Legolas did understand the need to remain separate to allow each other to focus on the needs of the Fellowship. He would just have to accept putting Frodo first. It was what he would have done if he had not loved Celede. She was a capable member of the Fellowship, and he would treat her as such. As Aragorn had said, he couldn't fall blindly for Celede and remain happy, as the last few weeks had shown. Besides, this gave Legolas further incentive to bring the quest to completion. If they succeeded, Legolas would have the chance to court Celede once more. For now though, he would try to keep his distance.  
>ooOOoo<p>

Celede woke up in the early hours before dusk and was immediately disoriented. Where was she, and why was she soaking wet? She blinked as the waterfall came back into focus, and the depressing memories of the day before came rushing back. Despite everything though, her way forward was clearer than it had ever been, and there was no point in dwelling in the past and what could not be. She had learned that lesson long ago.

As if to emphasize her commitment to starting anew, Celede ran the few strides to the edge of the waterfall pool and dove into the water. The sweet, cold water startled her tired muscles into waking entirely, and she reveled once more in the feeling of being clean. Under the waterfall, she scrubbed her hair one last time. It was only with great reluctance that she stepped out of the water and back onto dry land.

Looking down at herself, Celede yelped and almost jumped back into the water. How long had she been alive, and still she had not remembered what happened to white clothing when it became wet? The white gown she had changed into last night now clung to her body translucently in all the places she would have preferred covered. Glancing around quickly, Celede made sure she was alone. Then she pulled her wet hair over her front to hide as much as she could and ran barefoot back to her rooms.

Celede sighed in relief when the stairs leading to her canopy rooms finally came into sight. She had been darting from tree to tree, thanking the Vala with every sprint that not many Elves were awake this early in the morning. What would her grandparents think if they saw her now? Celede took one last look around, making sure the coast was clear. Then she dove out from behind the tree in a final dash to the stairs. She was halfway there when a figure stepped out from behind a neighboring tree not a throw's length away. Celede froze in embarrassment as she turned to see Boromir staring back at her. Although she was sure her hair concealed most of her front, she knew Boromir could still see all of her figure. He had a jug which he must have been about to fill with water, but all thoughts of that task were clearly forgotten as he stared at her. Celede blushed, and she watched his face flush deep red as well. In silent agreement, they quickly turned away from each other and Celede scampered to the tree, up the stairs and out of sight.

She ran past the early morning servants quickly, hoping any spared glance by them would not be long enough for them to notice her exposed state. When she finally reached her room, she flew through the leafy canopy that served as a door, stepped to the side, and leaned against the wall beside the door flap, breathing hard. Boromir had never accepted her into the Fellowship because she was female, and now she had just flaunted that femininity, albeit unintentionally, right in front of him. She closed her eyes in embarrassment. Perhaps he hadn't really seen anything. Hopefully he would never mention it for as long as he lived. If anyone found out…what would her family think? Her father, Arwen, and Elladan would probably be appalled by her actions, but she thought Elrohir would find the whole situation more comical than anything else. It _was_ funny, she supposed, the more she thought about it. Elrohir's imagined reaction finally gave her the courage to get up and change back into her warrior garb, which had been washed and laid out on her bed.

The leggings, skirt, and boots all made her feel more modest, but the wide chest of the tunic gave her pause. She had peeled off the bandages when she took off her gown and now her fingers lightly touched the thin cut across her chest that had already begun to heal, reminding her yet again that her Evenstar was gone. In her mind's eye over the years, she had played over and over again how it might feel to give that jewel to the Elf she loved, and recently that fantasy had transformed from not just any Elf to how _Legolas_ might react if presented with the jewel. It was never meant to be, though, and Celede sadly dropped her hand from her neck. Perhaps it was for the best that she had no jewel to imagine with anymore.

Reminded of how her Evenstar had been destroyed, Celede walked over to her nightstand and opened the top drawer. There, exactly where she had left it when she had come last time, lay another candy rope. Legolas was right; it had been foolish of her to not bring it along when it could help her. Legolas would certainly not be there to help her out again. Celede picked up the rope and carefully threaded it through a secret loop on the inside of the belt that held her throwing knife. She sheathed her throwing knife and strapped her long knife and fresh, full quiver of arrows to her back. Grabbing her bow, she took one last look around her room. It was the last time she would ever see it, Celede thought sadly, but she turned around with head held high and walked out without looking back.  
>ooOOoo<br>The Fellowship was already up and packing supplies into the boats when she arrived with her belongings. She noticed each of the Men had taken two hobbits in their boats, leaving the only boat with space for her to be the one with Gimli and Legolas. Her heart beat faster at the thought. She decided she'd ride in front, keeping Gimli between them. Celede winced at the thought of the awkwardness of this next stretch of the journey, but at the same time her heart beat faster with excitement. No matter how hard she tried to push Legolas away, Celede was simply not very good at it. Unconsciously, Celede gazed over at Legolas, who was packing supplies with an easy grace into the boat where Merry and Pippin sat. She wished he didn't look so attractive in his fitted tunic and embroidered greaves and boots, with his hair braided back to reveal his pointed ears and his eyes sparkling with anticipation of the journey. She watched as he unfolded one of the packages with nimble fingers to reveal a slice of lembas bread. His attention was on the hobbits, so she surreptitiously walked behind him, pretending to pick up more supplies while listening in on his conversation.

"Lembas," Legolas said with obvious pleasure, showing the wafer to the hobbits. Out of the corner of her eye, Celede watched him take a bite and chew contentedly.

"Elvish waybread," he continued, "One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man."

He turned around for more supplies, and Celede quickly looked down at the supplies before her. Legolas strode past her, not acknowledging her presence, and Celede stifled a sigh. Then, with her Elvish hearing, she heard Merry ask quietly, "How many did you have, Pippin?"

"Four."

Celede burst into sudden laughter but quickly hid it by pretending to cough. Legolas looked over at her strangely, but it was her turn to ignore him. With a knowing smile at Merry and Pippin, Celede moved past them to place the supplies in her own boat.

"Celebrian's daughter, I would speak with you," called Celeborn from behind her, and Celede turned to see that he and Galadriel had arrived to send them off, along with a contingent of Lorien Elves who immediately swooped down to help them pack. Celede walked away from the bank up the slight hill to her grandfather.

"My lord Celeborn," she said, bowing her head.

"How fares your wound?" he asked.

"It is much improved, my lord, but it was never a serious injury."

"Even the slightest of scratches can fell a person if they are not dealt with," Celeborn replied firmly. Celede nodded her head.

"But that is not why I have called you here," he continued, "I fear you are heading into great danger. As you head south on the Anduin, neither bank is safe. The eastern shore is controlled by Mordor orcs, and the western bank- Haldir has scouted strange creatures bearing the White Hand. We both know orcs do not travel in the open under the sun, yet these have done so. I fear even during the day, your Fellowship is in grave danger."

"If we move quickly by water, can we not outrun them?" Celede asked, her heart thudding in dread at her grandfather's words.

"Only until the Falls of Rauros at most. Then you must continue on foot. Move as quickly as you can, for I greatly fear the danger you may face if these creatures catch up."

"Yes, my lord," said Celede. There was a moment of silence between them, and Celede suddenly felt the urge to hug her grandfather. The last time she had said farewell to family, it had not ended well. Celeborn seemed to sense her thoughts, and although an embrace would be improper in front of so many Elves, he reached his hands out, palms up, and she placed her own hands in them. He squeezed her hands tightly, and she squeezed back, until finally he let her go.  
>When the packing of the boats was finished, the Fellowship assembled in a line in front of the riverbank, facing Galadriel and her Elves. Celede went to stand next to Gimli at the end of the line, while Celeborn went to stand by his mate. He lifted his hand and gestured, and the Elves behind Galadriel moved in front of the pair, carrying dark green cloaks.<p>

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people. May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes," he said as the Elves fastened the cloaks on with silver-lined leaf brooches. Haldir was the one who fastened Celede's cloak around her, and she nodded to him in thanks.

"Be careful. Be safe," he whispered to her, almost inaudibly, before stepping back with the other Elves. She gave him a sad smile.

"I should like to speak with each of you, one by one," Galadriel said then, "The rest of you can prepare the last touches to the boats. You must leave before the hour grows too late."

"Legolas Thranduilion," she called first, and Celede fought the curious urge to see what Galadriel was going to say to Legolas. She returned with the other to wait by the boats.

Galadriel did not speak to Legolas long. He returned with smile on his face and a new bow in his hand, one that Celede recognized as a bow of the Galadhrim. It was an honorable gift for only the most skilled Elves, and Celede felt pleased to see that Galadriel had counted Legolas among the best archers in Elvendom. Merry and Pippin went next, each returning with a dagger of the Noldorin, apprehension and nervous excitement in their eyes. Sam received some Elvish rope, but the gift seemed to disappoint him. Celede made a note to tell Sam sometime about all the things Elvish rope could do. Gimli and Boromir each returned with nothing that Celede could see, but Frodo came back carrying the light of Eärendil.

"That is a precious gift," Celede told him quietly, "Eärendil was beloved among my people, although he has long since left Middle Earth. He was my father's father, did you know?"

Frodo looked at her with wide eyes.

"Is there any Elf you are not related to?" he asked, and Celede laughed softly.

"You have only visited realms of my family, so it may seem that way, but there are many powerful Elves I am not related to. We will not be traveling to any other Elvish dwellings, like Mirkwood. I am not directly related to any Elf from Mirkwood, where Legolas is from."

Celede almost stumbled over his name. Although she thought it in her mind often, she found his name difficult to say aloud now, even in passing conversation to another person.

"Do you love him?" Frodo asked curiously. Celede felt color rise into her cheeks, flustered. Frodo noticed and quickly backed down.

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to intrude in such a way. Forgive me."

"It's alright, Frodo," Celede said slowly, "I guess I could say that I may have loved him dearly if we lived in another time, without evil or the Ring or Sauron."

"Celede, it is your turn," Aragorn interrupted the pair, coming back from his own meeting with Galadriel. Celede noticed with a pang that Arwen's Evenstar swung gently on his chest. Seeing Celede's gaze, Aragorn quickly tucked the jewel back under his shirt with a rueful look.

"Celede-" he began, but Celede had already stalked past him up the bank to her grandmother.

Galadriel was waiting for her with solemn eyes.

"Is this to be the last time we meet?" Celede asked before Galadriel could say anything. Galadriel was silent, and Celede took that as an affirmative, her heart sinking. When Galadriel finally answered, her words were soft and sad.

"If the future continues on this path, then yes."

Celede's heart sank even further.

"But I fear I gave you too much knowledge too soon," Galadriel continued, "I did not know what the Mirror would show you that day so long ago. If I did, perhaps I would not have allowed you to look."

"Why?" Celede asked, "I am glad to know what my future is, so I am prepared for what is to come."

"But there is never one certain future, little one. No one can say for sure what the future holds in store for anyone. Not your father, not me, not even the Mirror. We can only see paths that may be traveled and the outcomes of those paths. You still have control over your actions today, Celede, and the future may not be what you think."

"Are you saying that the poison in my veins will not kill me if I remain in Middle Earth?"

"No. As far as I can see at this moment, it still will-"

"Are you saying that I will find a cure for it on this journey?"

"Not as far as I can see, but-"  
>"Then I cannot see a different future for me than death," Celede said firmly.<p>

"You cannot think that way," Galadriel said, "If you think that way, then certainly the path you see will come to pass. You are still so young, and you never had time for the proper training –"

"I don't see what-"

Galadriel raised a hand to stop her, and Celede froze midsentence.

"Do not interrupt me again, daughter of my daughter," Galadriel said firmly. Celede nodded nervously. When Galadriel continued, Celede dared not say anything until she finished.

"You have all the weapons you need to fight the creatures you will face on this journey. You have no need for a different bow or dagger or anything I have given the others. But you are still missing something, Celede, something far greater than a simple weapon. You are missing hope, and the belief that you are in control of yourself. You are the only one who can determine your fate. Therefore, Celede, daughter of Elrond, my gift to you is an Evenstar of your mother's line, with which you may plight your troth with another."

As she spoke, Galadriel flourished the jewel, a sparkling white design of a flower atop vines that twisted and tapered to a point. It looked identical to the one Celede had lost in Moria, and Celede swallowed in shock as her hand went up to touch her empty throat.

"How did you get another?" Celede stuttered.

"Through a way that the Mirror could not foresee," Galadriel replied, "Already, the future is changing from the one that you saw in the Mirror. Trust to hope, and do not let thoughts of the future impede your actions in the now."

Celede was speechless as her grandmother gently fastened the necklace carrying the Evenstar around her neck. The familiar weight was a great comfort to Celede, and she looked at Lady Galadriel with tears in her eyes but hard resolve as well.

"If there is a way for both Middle Earth to be saved and for me to live, I will find it," Celede told her grandmother with conviction. Galadriel smiled at her.

"No one knows what the future will bring," she said gently. With one last nod of gratitude, Celede turned and headed back to the boats.  
>ooOOoo<p>

Celede did not look at Legolas as she walked back from her meeting with Galadriel. The rest of the Fellowship had already clambered into their boats and pushed off. Legolas's boat was the only one left by the shore. Legolas had already helped Gimli into the boat and was waiting with one foot on land and one foot in the boat as Celede approached. When she reached him, she met his eye but quickly looked away. Her bow and quiver were already in the boat, and her daggers were strapped in their sheaths on her back and in her belt. Legolas watched as she leaned forward and put one foot in the boat, which wobbled slightly under her weight.

"Careful," Gimli warned. Celede turned to look back at the pair, and Legolas noticed a jewel hanging from her neck had slipped forward to dangle in the air. With a start, Legolas recognized the jewel. The last time he'd seen it though, it had been smashed into countless tiny slivers. Celede seemed to notice his stare and she flushed, grabbing the jewel and turning towards the front as she slipped into the boat.

What did it mean that Celede now wore another Evenstar? Legolas felt a strange flutter in his chest, but he fought it down. Now was not the time to hope, just as Celede had told him. He needed to focus on the Fellowship and Frodo. With a sigh, Legolas pushed off of the bank and picked up an oar. With smooth, strong strokes he caught up with the other boats. Aragorn had taken Frodo and Sam, while Boromir had taken Merry and Pippin. As Legolas joined the other two boats, Aragorn signaled to Boromir, and the trio of boats began the next leg of their journey.

Celede wanted to look back at Lorien one last time, to memorize the sparkle of dawn amongst the dew of the towering trees. She did not want to meet Legolas's eye again though. Torn for a moment, Celede felt sharply the regret of not looking back at her father when the Fellowship had left Rivendell, and so she turned around this time to see Lothlorien before it disappeared from sight. Galadriel stood amongst the trees by the shore, looking serene yet exuding great power at the same time. As Celede looked back, Galadriel raised a hand out to the boats and Celede heard her grandmother's voice in her head. _Namarië. Farewell._

Celede turned back around to face the front of the boat quickly, refusing to look at Legolas. She wondered perhaps if the Fellowship ever broke up that she might ignore all reason and sense and allow Legolas closer to her heart. What was it that he had said during their argument? _I would rather spend one day and one night with you than regret missing the opportunity for eternity._ Was that how she felt, as well? Might it even be easier to let go of him, easier to die, if she had fond memories of spending time with him? Celede mentally shook herself of these thoughts. If the Fellowship broke up, it would mean she had failed to protect Frodo, and that was something she would not allow to happen at any cost. Thoughts of any other circumstance were foolish to consider.


	18. Tensions Rise

"I'm bored," Pippin whispered.

"Shut up, Pip," Merry replied.

The sun was approaching its peak on the third day after the Fellowship had left Lothlorien. Due to their small size, the hobbits were never given a turn at the oars, and Pippin was nearly bouncing in the boat with anxious energy. The Fellowship came ashore only at night when it became too dark to see the other boats or the river ahead. Every time they landed, Boromir and Aragorn would stumble off the boats, exhausted. Legolas would gracefully jump off his boat but then proceed to slump against a tree trunk for the rest of the night. Gimli and Celede were left to help the hobbits pull all of the boats ashore and unpack.

Pippin now tapped his hand along the edge of the boat in restlessness. It was too dangerous most nights to start a fire, but Pippin was already sick of the Elvish lembas bread. More than anything else, he wanted a nice pile of fried tomatoes and sausages. Pippin's stomach growled at the thought, and Merry whacked him.

"Careful not to rock the boat," Boromir said to them, but he was smiling. Pippin thought Boromir had grown quite fond of them over the duration of this trip. The same couldn't be said of Boromir's sentiment towards Celede or Frodo. Boromir seemed jovial now, but when Frodo was around, his eyes would never stop following the hobbit. A sudden hunger and greed for the Ring seemed to materialize where simple contentment had once rested, so strong that even Pippin had noticed. Boromir viewed Celede in the opposite light. Although he was always cordial to Celede, Pippin knew he despised her for being there. Pippin thought Celede pulled her own weight and was always willing to take watch, no matter how tired she was, but he also saw that Boromir felt she was only an extra burden he hoped would leave them sooner rather than later.

"Merry, I'm bored," Pippin repeated. Merry smacked him again.

"Don't rock the boat!" Boromir said in exasperation.

"He started it," both hobbits said at the same time, and Boromir could only shake his head and continue to paddle.

Celede watched the boat in front of them, Boromir's boat, wobble suddenly.

"Is their boat having problems?" Gimli asked aloud. Celede couldn't see past Boromir to the two hobbits also in the boat, but she had a feeling that Merry and Pippin were simply becoming restless.

"It must be so boring for them, to sit in a boat all day and then sleep all night. They eat so much, and now they have no way to use all that pent-up energy," Celede said as Boromir's boat wobbled again, more severely this time.

Gimli harrumphed. Then he leaned back and put his hands up behind his head.

"What's not to love about sitting in a boat and having Princeling row you to your destination?" he asked contentedly. Celede turned around to look at the two, and was just quick enough to catch Legolas rolling his eyes. She grinned at him. These past three days in the same boat with Gimli in between had been a balm to their relationship. Neither had shown anything more than friendship to the other, and Celede was feeling more comfortable opening up to Legolas, just as they had done as friends long ago.

"My offer to row the boat for a while still stands," Celede said, but Legolas just shook his head.

"There is no need. I would not be worthy of being a Prince of Mirkwood if I could not row a boat all day," he said mock seriously and Celede smiled.

A few hours passed, in which each person took a bite of lembas bread for lunch, before Gimli said something, almost to himself.

"I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest. Henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me."

Celede and Legolas glanced at each other, surprised by Gimli's sudden outburst and the fact that it was regarding Galadriel. Gimli had always disliked Elves so.

"What was her gift?" Legolas asked, and Gimli started.

"Keen Elf ears," he grunted. There was a pause.

"I asked for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three."

Legolas smiled then, a genuine, glad smile that lifted Celede's heart. Gimli had fast become her friend, and Celede would have liked nothing more than for Legolas and Gimli to become friends as well. Time passed in silence, the only sounds coming from the birds in the forest and the splash of the oars in the water. Gimil soon drifted off to sleep. As the sun began to set towards evening, Celede was dozing off herself when Legolas suddenly spoke to her in Elvish.

"Do you understand the significance of Gimli's gift?"

Celede tilted her head in confusion.

"Gimli now finds our people honorable?"

Legolas smiled again, "There is that, but I was thinking of Lady Galadriel herself. You have heard of Fëanor, I am sure, the Elf who created the Silmarils but guarded them vainly. Legend has it, for he lived many ages ago, that he too asked Galadriel for a golden hair on her head. Galadriel did not think he had good character, however, so she refused him. But now see, Celede, that she not only gave Gimli one hair but three. What good character he must have."

Celede had heard of Fëanor of course, for no Elf had not, but she had not heard of the legend that Legolas spoke of. It gladdened her, for the story only confirmed what Celede already knew: Gimli was a loyal and good friend to have.

By the night of the fifth day, Merry and Pippin were so restless and boisterous that even Boromir was annoyed with them. They skipped stones in the water and hollered and hooted in friendly competition. Aragorn and Boromir alternately told them to shut up, but they'd only do so for a few moments before starting back up again.

"Don't they need to sleep?" Sam grumbled to Celede as he eyed Frodo worriedly.

"They nap in the boat during the day and never get to stretch their legs," Celede replied. She sympathized with Merry and Pippin; it was hard to sit still all day and expect to sleep all night as well.

"Well, Mr. Frodo and I can't do that," Sam said. Then, in a hushed undertone, he confided, "I'm worried about Mr. Frodo. He doesn't sleep, barely eats. It's hard enough trying to get him to rest on dirty great roots and rocks, but with this added hubbub? Why did we even bring them along?"

Celede frowned. Here was yet another example of the cracks that were forming in the Fellowship. Boromir regretted her presence and continued to eye the Ring when he thought no one was looking. Now, Sam was voicing his distaste of his fellow hobbits, which was not something Celede had ever thought could happen. She glanced over at Legolas, who had one arm thrown over his closed eyes as he lay against a tree trunk, but she noticed the tension in his shoulders as Merry and Pippin continued to splash about. Only Gimli was truly uncaring and asleep, snoring soundly with his head on a root nearby.

"Merry, Pippin, come with me," Celede suddenly said. Everyone opened their eyes and turned to look at her in surprise.

"You may not have worked all day, but other members of the Fellowship have. It is rude to keep them up all night. Let's move further downriver and do something quieter to let the others rest."

Aragorn made a noise of protest, but Celede held up a hand.

"I haven't been rowing all day either. I am more than happy to help them expend some of their energy before they rest for the night."

Celede took the two hobbits away until the noises of the Fellowship disappeared into the noises of the forest, with the crickets chirping and frogs croaking near the water.

"What are we going to do?" Pippin asked.

"I thought we might spar for a bit, to prepare ourselves for battles to come," Celede said playfully, and Merry and Pippin's eyes lit up.

"We've never actually gotten an opportunity to practice with these," Merry said, drawing the dagger that Galadriel had given him. Celede drew her own throwing dagger.

"Come at me then," she said calmly.

"But that's two against one," Pippin complained, "It's not fair to you."

There was a glint of amusement in Celede's eyes.

"I've had hundreds of years of experience, Master hobbits. It is not fair to you," she goaded, "But try to keep your voices down."

With breathy, whispered battle cries, Merry and Pippin charged at Celede. She easily sidestepped Pippin's lunge and parried Merry's blade before twisting her own and sending Merry sprawling away from her. Pippin came back, slower this time. He seemed to be aiming for her right side, but by the set of his feet, Celede knew he was going to feint to her left instead. She met him halfway as he thrust to her left, and she saw his eyes widen with surprise as she spun away from him.

"How did you know what I was going to do?" he asked. Celede was tempted to say something like "magic" or "Elvish intuition," but she relaxed from her stance for a moment. She was here to help them expend their energy, but she could also turn this into a lesson as well.

"Your upper body was twisted towards my right, yes," Celede explained, "But your feet and hips were facing my left. That told me your body was preparing to attack my left instead, so it was easy for me to counter."

"But if all of me was facing right, I wouldn't be balanced to attack from the left," Pippin protested.

"So keep one foot in front of the other and settle into this stance," Celede said, demonstrating with Merry, who had come over to learn the lesson as well. Celede placed her left foot towards Merry's right so her right foot was behind her.

"Keep your weight evenly distributed to both legs, with your torso balance right in between. Do you see how my front leg is facing Merry's right just now? It looks like I may be attacking Merry's right by stepping forward with my back foot, but I can just as easily step towards Merry's left with my front leg also-"

Celede demonstrated as she spoke, and aimed a fake thrust towards Merry's left.

"That way, Merry doesn't know which way I am going to strike, and I am prepared to do either, depending on what Merry does. Swordfighting is very much a dance with your opponent, and even more so with us because we are using these small daggers and must get much closer to our opponents to attack. Now, Pippin, try what I just did with Merry, so you can feel the proper stance."

Celede continued this way, giving pointers and smiles of encouragement. Unseen by them, Legolas had followed them and was now hidden in the shadows of the trees. He watched as Celede patiently corrected their stances and taught the hobbits where and how to strike. Never did she appear exasperated or frustrated, even when Pippin kept forgetting to keep his weight balanced on both legs. Legolas had seen her ferocity and determination in Moria, and now he was seeing her teach killing blows and defensive maneuvers to two hobbits who were almost like children compared to her. She made sword fighting seem like a graceful dance that was almost soothing to watch, and not the disgusting act he knew battle to be. Her hair whipped around her as she spun or shimmered around her face as she thrust an arm forward to let her dagger fly. Her eyes sparkled with the excitement of finally being a teacher and not a student.

Legolas knew it had been hard on her to always be the youngest in a family which had been alive for more than a thousand years before she had been born. He knew she was constantly trying to match the skills of her siblings, but beyond that, he had also noticed that she felt she had something to prove to them. That first time he had seen her, more than four hundred years ago at her one hundredth birthday celebration, he had felt keenly the loss of Celebrian and the intriguing newness of Celede. He could only imagine how amplified those feelings must have been to Celede's family. Legolas knew if Celede ever noticed those feelings, she would think that her family would have chosen Celebrian over her if given the chance. Perhaps that might have been true before Celede was born, but Legolas had also noticed the extreme pride and protection not only her father, but her sister and brothers had for her. Elrohir had told him of Celede's affliction because he loved Celede for who she was, not for who she had replaced. It didn't matter to her family how skilled she was, only that she was safe and well, and Legolas hoped Celede knew that. He assumed Celede also told no one of the evil coursing through her veins for fear of being belittled or repulsed. Legolas did not feel that way at all. Instead, all he saw was a young maiden who was all the stronger for being able to fight and laugh and stride confidently into danger knowing what could happen from inside herself.

Although he had spent all day rowing the boat, Legolas continued to think about Celede and watched her entertain the hobbits long into the night. In the morning, he felt more energized than he had ever felt since the Fellowship had left Lorien.

Celede continued to teach the hobbits over the next few days. Frodo and Sam even joined in occasionally, but the evening training sessions were quickly becoming shorter and shorter. There was a tension in the air that was slowly building, a feeling that the more experienced members of the group felt. Cheerful bird calls would suddenly cease without any disturbance from the boats. The wind would change direction and suddenly Celede would detect a horrible scent of rotting meat on the air, but it was gone before she could take a second whiff. Once, an animal screamed from far away, and both Legolas and Celede jerked their heads behind them towards the sound.

"What's wrong, young missy?" Gimli barked. He couldn't hear anything, but he too could sense something was awry. Celede noticed Gimli had one hand clenched around his axe while the other held the edge of the boat tightly.

"I just thought I heard something, that's all," Celede said. Before she turned back around to face the front of the boat though, she looked Legolas in the eye. His blue eyes were bright with tension, and she saw worry in them as well. There was a new problem at hand, larger than their awkward relationship. The Fellowship was being followed, and their pursuers were catching up.

Merry and Pippin had picked up on the tension of the others and for once, kept their silence. The Fellowship didn't make camp until late that night, and only did so because Aragorn found a sheltered area hidden from the river by a large boulder.

Celede sat leaning against a nearby tree with her green Lorien cloak wrapped tightly around her. Was it her imagination, or did the cloak seem to be less green than it usually was? Did it seem more brown and gray, as if blending in with the colors of the tree behind her?

"Gollum. He has tracked us since Moria," Aragorn said suddenly, breaking into Celede's thoughts. She looked up and realized that Aragorn was not talking to her, but to Boromir, who was peering around the large boulder to look at a log floating in the middle of the river. Celede saw nothing at first, but then she saw long fingers move to grip the wood tighter, and two huge, luminous eyes peered out for a moment before completely disappearing back behind the log.

"Gollum," she repeated, "Who is he?"

"He was a Ring-bearer for five hundred years," Legolas replied, "Bilbo met him in his travels with Thorin and took the Ring, and that is how it passed to Frodo. Gollum was a type of hobbit once, before the Ring's power overwhelmed him and extended his life. Gandalf gave him to my father's keeping after he found Gollum tortured by Sauron for information, but Gollum escaped the dungeon."

Gimli laughed.

"Have you actually kept anyone in your dungeons?" he snorted, and Legolas frowned in irritation. He grabbed his bow and nocked an arrow into it.

"I can lock him away for eternity," Legolas said coldly, drawing his bow and aiming at the creature by the log. Celede reached out a hand to stop him. She could believe that Gollum had once been a hobbit, and she pitied him in his current state. If he had any sort of goodness left in him, she wanted to give him that chance at redemption

"Leave him alone," she told Legolas, "He hasn't done us any harm."

Legolas looked at her for a long moment, then relaxed his bow. Frodo relaxed as well, and Celede glanced at him. Frodo had been listening to the conversation, and now he seemed relieved at the outcome. Boromir scoffed at them though, clearly uninterested. He turned away from the water and faced Aragorn.

"Minas Tirith is the safer road. From there we can regroup...strike out from Mordor from a place of strength," he said to Aragorn.

"There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us," Aragorn replied.

"You were quick enough to trust the Elves. Have you so little faith in your own people?" Boromir demanded.

"That is because my people are strong and trustworthy," Celede said, "We do not deceive, we do not lie, we do not thirst for power the way you do."

"How dare you say that," Boromir said, "You know nothing of my people."

"I know more than you think," Celede said sharply. Long suppressed memories were beginning to surface, of a certain Man who had stopped her from smiling and feeling happiness for many years.

"I've seen how you look at Frodo and the Ring," she continued, "We have all noticed. And I've known other Men who were just as greedy. Men are easily corrupted. They will do anything for power. They will seduce and rape and pillage the innocent without a second thought. For all their seeming chivalry, their hearts are black with ill intentions."

Aragorn flinched at Celede's words, but Boromir fought back.

"You like Aragorn well enough."

"Aragorn was raised in Rivendell. He follows the ideals of my people."

"Then why are you here?" Boromir said furiously, "Why don't you stay with all the other heathens in your magic forest away from everything? Your houses aren't being attacked by orcs every day. Your women and children aren't being killed because they cannot run away fast enough and the men have been slaughtered before their eyes like animals. My people are being murdered, and I am here to destroy the evil that is doing them harm. I am here to save them. If you hate my people so much, then why are you here? Why aren't you contributing to that evil to destroy the world of Men? Or perhaps you are, in your sneaky way, by slowing us down and making us feel like we need to protect you over Frodo?"

His words hit too close to Celede's deepest fears.

"How many times must I show you I can take care of myself?" Celede fumed, "I am older than you, a better fighter than you, and you are arrogant enough to insult me and my people-"

"You insulted mine!"

"I only spoke the truth."

Boromir looked about ready to pull out his sword and fight her then and there.

"Leave it alone!" Everyone turned to look at Gimli in surprise. He had taken his pipe out of his mouth to shout at them.

"We will be fighting in battle soon enough. Stop fighting amongst yourselves. Go to sleep and stop tiring yourselves out with foolish arguments."

With that, Gimli popped his pipe back in his mouth and closed his eyes, leaning back against a large rock.

Celede turned away in a huff and Legolas went towards her, his hand reaching for her. Boromir rolled his eyes and turned to continue his argument with Aragorn.

"Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But there is courage also and honor to be found in Men. But you will not see that."

Aragorn started to turn away, but Boromir grabbed his arm to turn him back.

"Is it because of that she-witch? I don't think so. You are afraid. All your life, you have hidden in the shadows, living a life away from your people."

Aragorn did nothing in response. Boromir finally let his arm go as Aragorn pulled away, but then Aragorn suddenly turned back and leaned forward, his eyes full of menace as he stared at Boromir.

"You will never speak ill of Celede or her people again. And I will never lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city."

Celede didn't bother listening to what Boromir and Aragorn were saying. She found she didn't care. Suddenly, she felt a hand grasp her wrist greave. She turned and looked into the face of Legolas. Even after days of rowing, he looked as clean and handsome as ever, but now his brow was knit in confusion.

"Why did you say those things?" he asked her. She sagged her shoulders in defeat. Now that the argument was over, she could regret her raised voice to Boromir but not the words she had said. She loved Aragorn as a brother, but he would always be Estel to her, an Elf at heart if not in body. Boromir had been the first Man she had really interacted with since Seon, and when she'd first met Boromir, Celede had though him a better man than Seon. She had hoped that Seon was an exception among Men, but Boromir was turning out to be just the same. Boromir's eyes stared hungrily at the Ring just as Seon's eyes had filled with lust when he'd gazed at her in a pub room long ago.

'Because I believe them to be true," she said. Then she gently pulled away from Legolas.

"Sleep well," she told him quietly, trying not to brush him off as she always seemed to have done before.

As she lay on the beach to fall asleep, the last thing Celede saw was Frodo, curled up in a tense ball. His eyes were closed but his face was a pained grimace, and suddenly Celede deeply regretted saying anything to Boromir at all.


End file.
